"
He rubbed his chin with his knuckles, staring at the floor of the
veranda, and now and then raising quick glances at her. Plainly he was
suspicious. Plainly, also, he was tempted in some manner.
"Something he's done, eh? Some yarn about Terry?"
It was quite plain that this man actually wanted her to have something
unpleasant to say about Terry. Instantly she suited herself to his mood;
for he was the door through which she must pass to see Elizabeth Cornish.
"Bad?" she said, hardening her expression as much as possible. "Well, bad
enough. A killing to begin with."
There was a gleam in his eyes--a gleam of positive joy, she was sure,
though he banished it at once and shook his head in deprecation.
"Well, well! As bad as that? I suppose you may see my sister. For a
moment. Just a moment. She is not well. I wish I could understand your
purpose!"
The last was more to himself than to her. But she was already off her
horse. The man with the blueprint glared at her, and she passed across
the veranda and into the house, where Vance showed her up the big stairs.
At the door of his sister's room he paused again and scrutinized.
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