«I loved you first, Paula, and, though you did respond, it was not in the same way. I never took you off your feet. It seems pretty clear that Evan has.»

«I wish I could be sure,» she mused. «I have a feeling of being bowled over, and yet I hesitate. The two are not compatible. Perhaps I never shall be bowled over by any man. And you don't seem to help me in the least.»

«You, and you alone, can solve it, Paula,» he said gravely.

«But if you would help, if you would try—oh, such a little, to hold me,» she persisted.

«But I am helpless. My hands are tied. I can't put an arm to hold you. You can't share two. You have been in his arms—» He put up his hand to hush her protest. «Please, please, dear, don't. You have been in his arms. You flutter like a frightened bird at thought of my caressing you. Don't you see? Your actions decide against me. You have decided, though you may not know it. Your very flesh has decided. You can bear his arms. The thought of mine you cannot bear.»

She shook her head with slow resoluteness.

«And still I do not, cannot, make up my mind,» she persisted.

«But you must. The present situation is intolerable. You must decide quickly, for Evan must go. You realize that. Or you must go. You both cannot continue on here. Take all the time in the world. Send Evan away. Or, suppose you go and visit Aunt Martha for a while. Being away from both of us might aid you to get somewhere. Perhaps it will be better to call off the hunting. I'll go alone, and you stay and talk it over with Evan. Or come on along and talk it over with him as you ride. Whichever way, I won't be in till late. I may sleep out all night in one of the herder's cabins. When I come back, Evan must be gone. Whether or not you are gone with him will also have been decided.»

«And if I should go?» she queried.

Dick shrugged his shoulders, and stood up, glancing at his wrist– watch.

«I have sent word to Blake to come earlier this morning,» he explained, taking a step toward the door in invitation for her to go.

At the door she paused and leaned toward him.

«Kiss me, Dick,» she said, and, afterward: «This is not a… love– touch.» Her voice had become suddenly husky. «It's just in case I do decide to… to go.»

The secretary approached along the hall, but Paula lingered.

«Good morning, Mr. Blake,» Dick greeted him. «Sorry to rout you out so early. First of all, will you please telephone Mr. Agar and Mr. Pitts. I won't be able to see them this morning. Oh, and put the rest off till to-morrow, too. Make a point of getting Mr. Hanley. Tell him I approve of his plan for the Buckeye spillway, and to go right ahead. I will see Mr. Mendenhall, though, and Mr. Manson. Tell them nine– thirty.»

«One thing, Dick,» Paula said. «Remember, I made him stay. It was not his fault or wish. I wouldn't let him go.»

«You've bowled him over right enough,» Dick smiled. «I could not reconcile his staying on, under the circumstances, with what I knew of him. But with you not permitting him to go, and he as mad as a man has a right to be where you are concerned, I can understand. He's a whole lot better than a good sort. They don't make many like him. He will make you happy—»

She held up her hand.

«I don't know that I shall ever be happy again, Red Cloud. When I see what I have brought into your face… And I was so happy and contented all our dozen years. I can't forget it. That is why I have been unable to decide. But you are right. The time has come for me to solve the …» She hesitated and could not utter the word «triangle» which he saw forming on her lips. «The situation,» her voice trailed away. «We'll all go hunting. I'll talk with him as we ride, and I'll send him away, no matter what I do.»

«I shouldn't be precipitate, Paul,» Dick advised. «You know I don't care a hang for morality except when it is useful. And in this case it is exceedingly useful. There may be children.—Please, please,» he hushed her. «And in such case even old scandal is not exactly good for them. Desertion takes too long. I'll arrange to give you the real statutory grounds, which will save a year in the divorce.»

«If I so make up my mind,» she smiled wanly.

He nodded.

«But I may not make up my mind that way. I don't know it myself. Perhaps it's all a dream, and soon I shall wake up, and Oh Dear will come in and tell me how soundly and long I have slept.»

She turned away reluctantly, and paused suddenly when she had made half a dozen steps.

«Dick,» she called. «You have told me your heart, but not what's in your mind. Don't do anything foolish. Remember Denny Holbrook—no hunting accident, mind.»

He shook his head, and twinkled his eyes in feigned amusement, and marveled to himself that her intuition should have so squarely hit the mark.

«And leave all this?» he lied, with a gesture that embraced the ranch and all its projects. «And that book on in-and-in-breeding? And my first annual home sale of stock just ripe to come off?»

«It would be preposterous,» she agreed with brightening face. «But, Dick, in this difficulty of making up my mind, please, please know that—» She paused for the phrase, then made a gesture in mimicry of his, that included the Big House and its treasures, and said, «All this does not influence me a particle. Truly not.»

«As if I did not know it,» he assured her. «Of all unmercenary women— «

«Why, Dick,» she interrupted him, fired by a new thought, «if I loved Evan as madly as you think, you would mean so little that I'd be content, if it were the only way out, for you to have a hunting accident. But you see, I don't. Anyway, there's a brass tack for you to ponder.»

She made another reluctant step away, then called back in a whisper, her face over her shoulder:

«Red Cloud, I'm dreadfully sorry… And through it all I'm so glad that you do still love me.»

Before Blake returned, Dick found time to study his face in the glass. Printed there was the expression that had startled his company the preceding evening. It had come to stay. Oh, well, was his thought, one cannot chew his heart between his teeth without leaving some sign of it.

He strolled out on the sleeping porch and looked at Paula's picture under the barometers. He turned it to the wall, and sat on the bed and regarded the blankness for a space. Then he turned it back again.

«Poor little kid,» he murmured, «having a hard time of it just waking up at this late day.»

But as he continued to gaze, abruptly there leaped before his eyes the vision of her in the moonlight, clinging to Graham and drawing his lips down to hers.

Dick got up quickly, with a shake of head to shake the vision from his eyes.

By half past nine his correspondence was finished and his desk cleaned save for certain data to be used in his talks with his Shorthorn and Shire managers. He was over at the window and waving a smiling farewell to Lute and Ernestine in the limousine, as Mendenhall entered. And to him, and to Manson next, Dick managed, in casual talk, to impress much of his bigger breeding plans.

«We've got to keep an eagle eye on the bull-get of King Polo,» he told Manson. «There's all the promise in the world for a greater than he from Bleakhouse Fawn, or Alberta Maid, or Moravia's Nellie Signal. We missed it this year so far, but next year, or the year after, soon or late, King Polo is going to be responsible for a real humdinger of winner.»

And as with Manson, with much more talk, so with Mendenhall, Dick succeeded in emphasizing the far application of his breeding theories.

With their departure, he got Oh Joy on the house 'phone and told him to take Graham to the gun room to choose a rifle and any needed gear.

At eleven he did not know that Paula had come up the secret stairway from the library and was standing behind the shelves of books listening. She had intended coming in but had been deterred by the sound of his voice. She could hear him talking over the telephone to Hanley about the spillway of the Buckeye dam.

«And by the way,» Dick's voice went on, «you've been over the reports on the Big Miramar?… Very good. Discount them. I disagree with them flatly. The water is there. I haven't a doubt we'll find a fairly shallow artesian supply. Send up the boring outfit at once and start prospecting. The soil's ungodly rich, and if we don't make that dry hole ten times as valuable in the next five years …»

Paula sighed, and turned back down the spiral to the library.

Red Cloud the incorrigible, always planting his acorns—was her thought. There he was, with his love-world

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