At that time, however, the emotion
Sanderson felt had been merely dislike--as Sanderson had always
disliked men who attempted to bully others.
Sanderson's hatred of Dale was beginning to dominate him; it was
overwhelming all other emotions. It dulled his sense of guilt for the
part he was playing in deceiving Mary Bransford; it made him feel in a
measure justified in continuing to deceive her.
For he divined that without his help Mary would lose the Double A.
Sanderson had always loved a fight, and the prospect of bringing defeat
and confusion upon Dale was one that made his pulses leap with delight.
He got up on the morning following Dale's visit, tingling with
eagerness. And yet there was no sign of emotion in his face when he
sat with Mary Bransford at breakfast, and he did not even look at her
when he left the house, mounted his horse, and rode up the gorge that
split the butte at the southern end of the range.
All morning he prowled over the table-land, paying a great deal of
attention to the depth of the gorge, estimating its capacity for
holding water, scanning the far reaches of the big basin carefully, and
noting the location of the buildings dotting it.
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