The Last Woman

What might have happened between those two fiery natures at that crisis will never be known, because at the moment when Duncan threw the door ajar, and uttered his dismissal, Jack Gardner appeared suddenly upon the scene, having just stepped from the elevator. If he heard that expression of dismissal, he showed no evidence of it, or he did not comprehend its significance; and, if he saw in the attitude of the two men anything out of the ordinary, he gave no sign that he did so. But Jack Gardner, too, was from Montana; and he had learned, long ago, how to conduct himself in emergencies. It was a fortunate interruption, all around. Duncan, although apparently calm, was in a white rage. He would not have hesitated to meet Morton more than half-way, in any manner by which the latter might choose to show his resentment for the twisted arm. As it was, Gardner was the savior of the situation.

"Hello, Duncan! How are you?" he exclaimed, in his usual manner. "Why, Dick! I didn't expect to find you here; didn't know that you and Dun were acquainted." He shook hands with both the men, one after the other, in his accustomed hearty and irresistible manner, grinning at them and utterly refusing to see that there was restraint in the manner of either.

"It is my first acquaintance with Mr. Morton," replied Duncan easily, and touched a lighted match to the cigar he had previously taken from his case. He was, outwardly, entirely at ease. "He did me the honor to call upon me, and we have been chatting together for more than half an hour. Will you sit down, Jack? Mr. Morton, be seated again, won't you?"

The ranchman looked upon his late antagonist with utter amazement. It was an exhibition of a kind of self-control that was strange to him. It angered him, too, because of his own inability to assume it. He was suddenly ashamed. Patricia's reference to his "training," recurred to him. He understood, now, exactly what she had meant--it had not been plain to him before. Here before him was "the man of the East," at whom he had so often scoffed, for the word "Tenderfoot" had, until now, been synonymous with contempt. But Morton felt himself to be the tenderfoot, in the present case. He replied, stiffly, to the invitation to be seated.

"Thank you," he said. "I find that I am neglecting an engagement." It was the only excuse he could think of.

"Wait just a minute, Dick, and I'll go along with you," said Gardner. "I only stepped in a moment to give Duncan a message from my wife. She says, Roderick, that she would like to have you drop around at the house, for a moment, if you can make it. She is not going out. Now, Dick, if you are ready, I'm with you. So long, Duncan; I'll see you later, at the club."