As they approached
the houses, both men drew rein and looked carefully to their
weapons. Then they slid from the saddles and slipped noiselessly
forward.
What the foreman had said was exactly true. Helen Messiter did
want them both, and she wanted them very much indeed.
After supper she had been dreamily playing over to herself one of
Chopin's waltzes, when she became aware, by some instinct, that
she was not alone in the room. There had been no least sound, no
slightest stir to betray an alien presence. Yet that some one was
in the room she knew, and by some subtle sixth sense could even
put a name to the intruder.
Without turning she called over her shoulder: "Shall I finish the
waltz?" No faintest tremor in the clear, sweet voice betrayed the
racing heart.
"Y'u're a cool hand, my friend," came his ready answer. "But I
think we'll dispense with the music. I had enough last time to
serve me for twice."
She laughed as she swung on the stool, with that musical scorn
which both allured and maddened. "I did rather do you that time,"
she allowed.
"This is the return match. You won then. I win now," he told her,
with a look that chilled.
"Indeed! But isn't that rather discounting the future?"
"Only the immediate future.
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