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Thoroughly disgusted with himself for having in the past treated the hearts of women lightly, he now drew the rein of honor tightly when he thought of his position and hers. He told himself he would never go to see her again till he had made up his mind to forget her love for Wambush and every rasping fact pertaining to it, and honorably ask her to be his wife.
"Of Wambush, and all the rest. Oh, Harriet, I've tried so hard to forget him and overcome my " "What about him? Answer me; what about him?" "The letter I asked you to burn was not for me. It was from old Wambush to Toot. In it he mentioned you, and how you helped Toot hide that whiskey, and how you confessed your love and cried in the old man's arms." "Mr. Westerfelt, are you crazy?
It was very broad, the brim was pinned up on one side by a little brass ornament, and he wore it on the back of his head. Westerfelt caught the eye of his partner, and asked: "Who is the fellow with the hat on?" "Don't you know him?" she asked, in surprise. "Why, that's Toot Wambush, Sarah's brother." "Why don't he take off his hat?" "For want of better sense, I reckon."
The sheriff was becoming angered. He grasped Wambush's hand and tried to take the knife away, but Toot's fingers were like coils of wire. "I'll see you damned fust!" grunted Wambush, and, powerless to do anything else, he spat in the sheriff's face. "d n you, I'll kill you!" roared Warlick, and he struck Wambush on the jaw.
Presently he saw them emerge from the woods. They were still walking slowly and close together. Westerfelt could learn nothing from Harriet's passive face, but Bates now certainly looked depressed. A sudden thought stunned Westerfelt. Could she have told Bates of her old love for Wambush, and had he even he decided not to marry her?
"He's attempted deliberate murder on a unarmed man," Bradley informed the sheriff; "fust with a gun an' then with a knife. Ef you don't jail 'im, Bale Warlick, you'll never hold office in Cohutta Valley agin." The sheriff stepped up to Wambush. "Drap that knife!" he ordered. "Drap it!" "Go to h !" Toot ceased his struggling and glared defiantly into the face of the sheriff. "Drap that knife!"
I suppose she knew Wambush would try to kill me, and she didn't want to " "She don't keer a snap for Wambush, ef that's what you mean," said Washburn, when he saw that Westerfelt was going no farther. "I know it's been the talk, an' she no doubt did like him a little at one time, but the' ain't but one man livin' she keers fer now.
I intend to ask her to be my wife if " he began again to kick the log. "Dang it, it seems to me you see, I know that she don't care a rap for Wambush; a few of us thought thar was something between 'em once, but since he went off it is as plain as day that she is not grieving after him. But, somehow, it seems to me that she may have a hankering after you.
"Had to git together; most uv us never even heerd uv yore capture tell a hour by sun. Huh, you'd better thank yore stars we re'ched you when we did." The band filed out of the gate and mounted their horses. Toot Wambush was a little in advance of the others. He suddenly turned his horse towards the hotel.
"Hit 'im in the bread-basket, John!" cried Luke Bradley. It was a happy suggestion. Westerfelt struck Wambush in the stomach. With a gasp and an oath, Wambush doubled up and released Westerfelt's throat. The two men now clinched breast to breast, and, with arms round each other's bodies, each began to try to throw the other down.
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