If Bram Johnson was mad would he play the game as he was playing
it now! He had almost killed Philip for possession of the food,
that the girl might have the last crumb of it. Now, without a sign
of the madman's caution, he had left it all within his reach
again. A dozen times the flaming suspicion in his eyes had been
replaced by a calm and stupid indifference. Was the suspicion real
and the stupidity a clever dissimulation? And if dissimulation--
why?

He was positive now that Bram had not harmed the girl in the way
he had dreaded. Physical desire had played no part in the wolf-
man's possession of her. Celie had made him understand that;--and
yet in Bram's eyes he had caught a look now and then that was like
the dumb worship of a beast. Only once had that look been anything
different--and that was when Celie had given him a tress of her
hair. Even the suspicion roused in him then was gone now, for if
passion and desire were smoldering in the wolf-man's breast he
would not have brought a possible rival to the cabin, nor would he
have left them alone together.

His mind worked swiftly as he stared unseeing out into the corral.
He would no longer play the part of a pawn. Thus far Bram had held
the whip hand. Now he would take it from him no matter what
mysterious protestation the girl might make! The wolf-man had
given him a dozen opportunities to deliver the blow that would
make him a prisoner. He would not miss the next.

He faced Celie with the gleam of this determination in his eyes.
She had been watching him intently and he believed that she had
guessed a part of his thoughts. His first business was to take