He wanted to hurt, because Mazarine had only a short time before
dispensed with his services as a lawyer, and had blocked the way to that
intimacy which he had hoped to establish with Tralee and its mistress.
Besides, his pride as a professional man had been hurt, and he had been
deprived of income which now went to his most hated professional rival.
Mazarine's jealous soul had cut him off, on coming to know Burlingame's
dark reputation. He had not liked the look Burlingame had given Louise
when they met.
"Gone again, has she?" Burlingame repeated sarcastically. "Well, you
needn't go to Slow Down Ranch to find her. She isn't there, and you won't
find him there either, for I saw him come by the Lark River Trail into
Askatoon as I left, and a lady was with him. He booked this morning for
the sleeper of the express going East to-night; so, if I were you, I'd
turn my horse's nose to Askatoon, Mr. Mazarine. I don't know why I tell
you this, as you're not my client now, but I go about the world doing
good, Mr. Mazarine--only doing good."
There was a look in Burlingame's face which Heaven would not have
accepted as goodness, and there was that in his voice which did not
belong to the Courts of the Lord. Malice, though veiled, showed in face
and sounded in voice. Even as he spoke, Joel Mazarine turned his horse's
head towards Askatoon.
"You're sure a woman was with him? You're sure she was with him?" he
asked in chaos of passion.
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