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She remembered a confidence Blister had once made to her. "T-Texas man," she squeaked, stuttering a little in mimicry, "throw up that red haid an' stick out yore chin." Up jerked the head. Bob began to grin in spite of himself. "Whose image are you m-made in?" she demanded. "You know," he answered. "What have you got over all the world?" "Dominion, ma'am, but not over all of it, I reckon."
"Dad!" she cried, hotly. This had grown to be an ordeal for Jorth. He seemed a victim of contending tides of feeling. Some will or struggle broke within him and the change was manifest. Haggard, shifty-eyed, with wabbling chin, he burst into speech. "See heah, girl. You listen. There's a clique of ranchers down in the Basin, all those you named, with Isbel at their haid.
"Moike, yez hev a mimory." A big Negro pushed out his huge jaw and blustered at his fellows. "I's a-gwine to bust thet yaller nigger's haid," he declared. "Bill, he's your fr'en'. Cool down, man, cool down," replied a comrade. A teamster was writing a letter in lead-pencil, using a board over his knees. "Jim, you goin' to send money home?" queried a fellow-laborer.
"An' den he gits up an' walks up to Miss Anne an' looks at her right hard; an' Miss Anne she hed done tu'n away her haid an' wuz makin' out she wuz fixin' a rosebush 'g'inst de poach; an' when her pa kep' lookin' at her, her face got jes' de color o' de roses on de bush, and pres'n'y her pa sez: "'Anne! "An' she tu'ned roun', an' he sez: "'Do yo' want 'im?
His choice was a characteristic one. "Well, I reckon you've kinda upset my plans, Em. 'Course I was a-coddin' you. I didn't aim to hurt you none, though I'd 'a' liked to have talked you outa the water-holes." The big cattleman ignored this absolutely. "Have a team hitched right away. Shorty will 'tend to that. Bob, tie up yore friend's haid with a handkerchief."
Don't be so infernally rough about it. Kicking is a dangerous habit to get into. One of these days you will forget yourself and kick a Kentucky mule. Then good night!" "Didn't Ah tell ye-all to keep still? Want another clip ovah the haid?" "Thank you, no," replied Hippy. "If you don't mind, before I relapse into gloomy silence, you might tell me what the big idea is.
She had been witness of his degradation, had seen him show the white feather. A pulse of shame beat in his throat. "W-w-what are you doing here?" he asked wretchedly. Dave answered for her. "Isn't she always on the job when she's needed? Yore fairy godmother that's what Miss Beulah Rutherford is. Rode hell-for-leather down here to haid off that coyote there and done it, too.
You wouldn't go back on me!" implored Anson, with uplifted hands, in a dignity of pathos. "I'm losin' my haid, too, an' you shore might as well knock it in, an' you'll hev to before I'll stand you murderin' thet pore little gurl you've drove crazy." "Jim, I was only mad," replied Anson. "Fer thet matter, I'm growin' daffy myself. Aw! we all need a good stiff drink of whisky."
He gazed at the quivering rifle barrel and then into the face of Ellen's father. Instinct told him where his real peril lay. Here the cool and tactful Daggs showed himself master of the situation. "Heah, listen!" he called. "Ellen, I reckon Bruce was drunk an' out of his haid. He's shore ate his words. Now, we don't want any cripples in this camp. Let him alone.
If Marse Bob hadn't kep' him load back an' make de bullet come straight dat big Injun'd put his hatchet squar' into my haid! Har! har! He suht'inly did grunt when dat piece ob lead hit him 'kerchug'! But mebbe next time dar wouldn't be no piece ob lead." Robert Armstrong was the man who had fired the shot. Black Jim had recognized the rifle-crack. He knew all the men well, and they all knew him.
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