Hang around her ontil my boy--him that's comin' home on a visit--gets
here, and I reckon he'll clear out that yar Sacramento counter-jumper.
Only let me get a sight o' him afore Flip does. Eh? D'ye hear? Dog my
skin if I don't believe the d----d Injin's drunk." It was fortunate
that at that moment Flip reappeared, and, dropping on the hearth
between her father and the infuriated Lance, let her hand slip in his
with a warning pressure. The light touch momentarily recalled him to
himself and her, but not until the quick-witted girl had revealed to
her, in one startled wave of consciousness, the full extent of Lance's
infirmity of temper. With the instinct of awakened tenderness came a
sense of responsibility, and a vague premonition of danger. The coy
blossom of her heart was scarce unfolded before it was chilled by
approaching shadows. Fearful of, she knew not what, she hesitated.
Every moment of Lance's stay was imperiled by a single word that might
spring from his suppressed white lips; beyond and above the suspicions
his sudden withdrawal might awaken in her father's breast, she was
dimly conscious of some mysterious terror without that awaited him.
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