"
The steady eyes, the emphatic tones of this big, straight-dealing
rancher silenced the last doubt in Bob's lesser mind. He was out to do
this dirty work with all his might in the interest of the woman who had
inspired it. But he had scarcely been prepared for such simple methods
as this man displayed. He had felt that it was for him to barter, to
scheme, to secure the dollars Effie coveted. A deep sigh escaped him.
It may have been relief. It may have been of regret that he must stand
before so straight-dealing a personality claiming his thirty pieces of
silver.
He passed one hand across his perspiring brow and thrust his prairie
hat farther back upon his head. He would have preferred, however, to
have drawn it down over his eyes to escape the searching gaze from the
honest depths of the other's. Suddenly, with a gesture of impatience,
he began to talk rapidly.
"It's no use, Mr. McFarlane, I hate this rotten work," he cried out.
"I--I hate it so bad I could just rather bite my tongue out than tell
you the things I've got to.
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