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But Nannie had another lover, in fact a score of them from among the neighboring young settlers, but one in particular who bid fair to be Billy's most dangerous rival. This one was a dashing young fellow from Leavenworth, with a handsome face and fine form, and who always had plenty of money.
And poor big Billy's voice shook. "No. No lame. I doctor him," said the Indian. "I good doctor. My name Five Feathers me." "Five Feathers!" exclaimed Billy. "Oh, I've often heard father speak of you. Father loves you. He says you are the best Indian in the whole Hudson's Bay country." Five Feathers smiled. "Your father and me good friends," he said simply. Then added, "How you come here?"
"I'm Byrne Billy Byrne. De guy dat cracked your puss fer youse on de Lotus." "Dead, hell! Not me. Say, I'm up here at Barbara's." "Yes, dat's wot I said. She wants youse to beat it up here's swift as youse kin beat it." Barbara Harding stepped forward. Her eyes were blazing. "How dare you?" she cried, attempting to seize the telephone from Billy's grasp.
It is well known that Farrington wanted the parson removed on the plea of old age, but didn't want that clause in about Billy's death. The Fletchers insisted, however, an' in it went." "The devil! Well, it's queer, I do declare." Just then the bell rang out its last call, and they entered the church with others.
For the third time the blacksmith blocked the way. "Get off your foot," said Billy. "You're standin' on it." Long all but sprang upon him, his hands clenched, one arm just starting back for the punch while at the same instant shoulders and chest were coming forward. But he restrained himself at sight of Billy's unstartled body and cold and cloudy ayes. He had made no move of mind or muscle.
It was a good thing they let him march there for he was so taken up with watching the ponies in front of him that he forgot to be mad at Jocko, who was going through all sorts of antics on his back and swinging on Billy's horns.
Here Billy's voice choked, and his fingers touched the big revolver at his belt. "My brother was thrown. He landed badly; something's wrong with his ankle, his leg; he can't walk; can't go on, even on my horse. It happened over there, about two miles." Here Billy pointed across the prairie to where a slight hump showed where the dead horse lay.
Three blackfish testified to his skill with the rod, at which Wally whistled disgustedly and Norah laughed. "No good to be jealous of Billy's luck," she said. "He can always get fish, when nobody else can find even a nibble. Mrs. Brown says he's got the light hand like hers for pastry." The Hermit laughed. "I like Mrs. Brown's simile," he said.
"But I was very young then." Billy's voice was troubled. Billy had been trying so hard for the last two hours to be the graciously cordial hostess to this woman Bertram's sister. "Very true. Then why not 'Kate' now?" Billy hesitated. She was wondering why it seemed so hard to call Mrs. Hartwell "Kate." "Of course," resumed the lady, "when you're Bertram's wife and my sister "
So he said: "He was not exactly a stranger to me. We were at school together." "Oh, another of Billy's friends. I never knew such a person for discovering friends at the most opportune times. He never wants anything but what a friend turns up. Did you find him wandering about, or did he come and demand admittance?" "Why, neither exactly. I was not in the house at the time.
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