He was more disturbed than he dared to confess
even to himself. It was not so much that Bull Hunter sat with a
faintly dreamy smile, staring into the future and forgetting his food,
but it was the fact that Mary Hood was continually smiling across the
table into that big, calm face. Dunbar began to feel that the devil
was indeed behind the wit of Riley.
He began to wait nervously for the coming of the girl's father and the
explosion. As soon as supper was over, following the time-honored
custom which the first Dunbar established on the ranch, Mary left the
room, and the men gathered in groups for cards or dice or talk, for
they were not ordinary hired hands, but picked men. Many of them had
grown gray in the Dunbar service. Now was the time for the coming of
Jack Hood, and Hal had not long to wait.
The door at the far side of the big room was thrown open not five
minutes after the disappearance of Mary Hood, and her father entered.
He came with a brow as black as night, tossed a sharp word here and
there in reply to the greetings, and going to the fireplace leaned
against the mantel and rolled a cigarette.
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