"I thought of waitin' on the school-board, or at least a part of them, ma'am."
The proposal alarmed Mrs. McCoy. She exclaimed sharply against it, starting to her feet, confronting him with panic in her eyes.
"It would only make it worse! No, no! The kindest deed you can do will be to leave Cottonwood at once."
"If I could bring peace back to Miss McCoy by going, ma'am—"
"We might be able to fix matters up—I might get her place back for her, if you were out of the way."
Texas stood a little while, his head bowed, the weight of his contemplation heavy upon him.
"But I can't leave for a few days," he said, his voice scarcely above his breath, as if he communed with himself. Then frankly to her: "I'll not promise you to leave, Mrs. McCoy, proud as I'd be to oblige you. I've set out to clear myself before these cattlemen, and I'm a going to do it. When it's done, and you folks get your eyes open and see me right, I'll bid you fare-you-well."
"It was an unfortunate wind that blew you here."
"Ma'am, it was so. If it wasn't for Uncle Boley—"
"That poor, simple old man! Do you want to
