Then with irresistible steps, neither swift nor slow, but ponderous, he strode to the porch and mounted the steps.
"Why, Ben, where are you going ?" called Columbine, in surprise, as she followed him.
He did not answer.

He approached the closed door of the living-room.
"Ben!" cried Columbine, in alarm.
But he had no reply for her--indeed, no thought of her.

Without knocking, he opened the door with rude and powerful hand, and, striding in, closed it after him.
Bill Belllounds was standing, back against the great stone chimney, arms folded, a stolid and grim figure, apparently fortified against an intrusion he had expected.
"Wal, what do you want ?" he asked, gruffly.

He had sensed catastrophe in the first sight of the hunter.
"Belllounds, I reckon I want a hell of a lot," replied Wade.

"An' I'm askin' you to see we're not disturbed." "Bar the door." Wade dropped the bar in place, and then, removing his sombrero, he wiped his moist brow.
"Do you see an enemy in me ?" he asked, curiously.
"Speakin' out fair, Wade, there ain't any reason I can see that you're an enemy to me," replied Belllounds.