XI. Thorn Goes On A Mission
Whatever Mr. Gamble’s mission at the ranch, Bob Eden reflected during lunch, it was obviously a peaceful one. Seldom had he encountered a more mild-mannered little chap. All through the meal the newcomer talked volubly and well, with the gentle, cultivated accent of a scholar. Madden was sour and unresponsive; evidently he still resented the intrusion of this stranger. Thorn as usual sat silent and aloof, a depressing figure in the black suit he had today donned to replace the one torn so mysteriously the night before. It fell to Bob Eden to come to Mr. Gamble’s aid and keep the conversation going.
The luncheon over, Gamble rose and went to the door. For a moment he stood staring out across the blazing sand toward the cool white tops of the mountains, far away.
“Magnificent,” he commented. “I wonder, Mr. Madden, if you realize the true grandeur of this setting for your ranch house? The desert, the broad lonely desert, that has from time immemorial cast its weird spell on the souls of men. Some find it bleak and disquieting, but as for myself—”
“Be here long?” cut in Madden.
