"Is it Rand?" he whispered hoarsely.
She shook her head negatively.
"Who, then?"
"Amos Seddon," she whispered gaspingly. Then she reeled backward and staggered to a chair, into which she fell, both hands at her throat; while Compton, with wide, incredulous gaze, watched her.
"You lying?" he said, stepping toward her and standing over her threateningly.
Again she made a negative motion with her head, and Compton backed away, laughing derisively.
"The old son-of-a-gun!" he said. He again approached the girl, grinning down at her hugely.
"So that's the reason Seddon doesn't like Rand, eh? Rand knows, does he?" he asked the girl.
The girl nodded affirmatively.
For a time Compton stood and watched her, a gleam of malicious cunning in his smiling eyes.
Yesterday, in the rear room downstairs, when Rand had entered while Kinney's injured hand was being cared for, Compton had caught the glances exchanged by Rand and Lucia Morell. And during the time that Rand had been in the room, Compton had observed the admiration and applause in the girl's eyes.
But it had not been until he had been riding toward town earlier in the day that he had thought to associate the girl with the incident of the shooting. And then, remembering her glance at Rand, he had decided it had been she who had warned Rand.
He had entered her room, determined to inflict physical punishment upon her; but the revelation of Seddon's secret, and the discovery that the girl was in love with Rand, offered possibilities that would be more satisfying than physical punishment inflicted upon the girl who cringed in the chair near him.
He laughed, lowly and placatively, as he watched Lucia; and when he walked toward her and stood looking down at her, the passion had gone out of his eyes.
"I didn't intend to hurt you, Lucia." He drew a chair near her and seated himself on its edge. "You see, I lost my temper. I didn't know you loved Rand; I thought you had warned him because you hated me."
Disregarding the resentful fury of the girl's eyes, he resumed, smiling smoothly.
"I know you'd like to murder me, but I won't let you. Let's talk sense and face the facts. You love Rand, and with a woman of your type, to love a man is to try to get him. Has it ever occurred to you that Rand is a handsome devil, and that there might be another woman, besides yourself, who wants him?"
He regarded her keenly, and his lips curved with a smile of satisfaction when he saw her start and stiffen.
He knew the woman's nature; he was aware of the passionate impulses that ruled her; and he saw the wanton gleam in her eyes as she returned his gaze.
She was thinking of Rand; of his manner on the night she had warned him of the plot to kill him; of how he had held her off, refusing her advances. She had thought, then, that there might be another woman, but she could think of no one in Ocate who might be a possible rival. For Rand, until now, had not been interested in women— of her type, at least.
And so, despite her resentment for the big, smiling, ruthless man, she could not hide her curiosity and interest.
"Who is she?" she demanded, her dark eyes glowing with sudden passion.
"That's better," mocked Compton. "The thought that there might be another woman is intolerable, isn't it?"
"Bah!" she scoffed; "don't try to be humorous, Link; it doesn't become you. Especially at this minute, when you've choked me, and you are insanely jealous of Rand. Ha, ha!" she laughed when she saw Compton's face turn crimson and noted the leaping fire in his eyes. "The thought that there might be another man is intolerable, too, eh?"
He cursed, and sat looking at her vindictively; and the woman, watching him with implacable, hating gaze, smiled sneeringly, wisdom in her eyes.
"Everybody knows you hate Rand, and everybody knows Rand hates you. That's notorious. And everybody knows that if both of you stay in this country long enough, your hatred for each other will end in a killing. It would have ended that way before now, if Rand was as bloodthirsty as you. And it's coming now; any fool can see that. And you are hurrying it. And I know why. It's because you and Rand love the same woman. Who is she, Link?" she taunted, watching him with level gaze.
"It's Eleanor Seddon!" snapped Compton, his eyes gleaming balefully as they met those of the woman.
Lucia drew a long breath and leaned back in the chair. For a long time she sat motionless and thoughtful, her eyes smoldering with a fire that fascinated Compton, so deep and wanton was it. And at last, with a shallow grin at him, she said lowly:
"It looks as though our interests are going to jibe, after all, doesn't it, Link?"
And then, for half an hour, they talked. The woman was no longer resentful, and Compton taunted her no more. And when Compton departed he was wearing an evil, satisfied grin; while the woman, left alone, sat for some time in the chair, smiling mirthlessly.
Chapter XVIII. The Riddle of Rand
MIDNIGHT and Silver had no hard task upon the day Bud sat on the porch watching them as they loped toward the river, beyond which was the big stretch of timber, for their riders seemed to be in no hurry. Therefore the two horses, nosing each other companion-ably, made their way leisurely into the smiling sunshine, contented with the small demands made upon them.
At the shallow crossing of the river, Miss Seddon pulled Silver up and looked at Rand with a slightly troubled expression in her eyes.
"Water is getting scarce in this section, isn't it?" she inquired. The girl had in mind her father's charge that Rand was "stingy" with the water, and she wanted to see Rand's face when she spoke of it And so she turned to look at him.
He met her gaze steadily. "Why, I reckon there's enough water. Only," he added, smiling faintly, "it ain't scattered around as it might be. Your dad didn't have much last season. His stock was lookin' pretty bad, an' Larry Redfern rode over an' told him to drive to the shallow here to water."
"Who is Larry Redfern?"
"My range boss."
Her eyes quickened as she looked at him. "Larry Redfern rode over, you said. But of course Redfern had to have some authority to make the offer; he could not have made it on his own responsibility!"
"I expect he had authority," said Rand, looking downward and smoothing Midnight's mane.
"Whose?" she demanded.
"Why, mine, ma'am," he grinned; "was you expectin' Larry has more than one boss?"
"Why didn't you say it was you at the start?" she demanded.
He looked up and his eyes, gleaming serenely, met hers.
"I'd heard that Compton an' your dad was complainin' that I was stingy with the water. Larry an' me was talkin' it over one day, an' Larry suggested we ought to let your dad's cattle water here. An' so Larry rode over an' told your dad."
"And Compton?"
"Compton didn't get any invitation."
"Why?"
She saw his eyes gleam with some strong passion. But only for an instant. In the next he was smilng mirthlessly at Midnight's mane, where he patted it.
She felt the constraint that had come into his manner; and she divined that all was not well between him and Compton. Seddon had not told her that Compton was implicated in the shooting in town, and so she had no foundation upon which to build a structure of speculation; though a certain hard expression that had come into Rand's face indicated much.
But if she expected him to explain his attitude toward Compton she was doomed