Keith had probed sufficiently into her mind to feel assured that her inclination was to side with Hawley.

Under all the circumstances this was natural enough, and he did not blame her.
He glanced into the bar-room as he passed, not in any anticipation, but merely from the vigilance which becomes second nature upon the frontier.
Hawley stood leaning against the bar, where he could see anyone passing through the hall.

The eyes of the two men met, but the gambler never moved, never changed his attitude, although Keith noted that his right hand was hidden beneath the skirts of his long coat.

The plainsman drew back, facing his enemy, until he reached the outer door.

There was a sneer on Hawley's dark sinister face like an invitation, but a memory of the girl he had just left, and her dependence upon him, caused Keith to avoid an encounter.