The fire at once sprang to Hartwell's own brown, homely face, as if it leaped the space between them from heart to heart and found congenial fuel there.
"Well, you had a right to," said Uncle Boley, rather taken aback by her ready confession.
Texas stood up proudly, his head held high, glad that she was not ashamed to have it known that she had sought his company, despised as he was of men.
"I was afraid, from what mother said last night, that you might be gone, or about to leave, Mr. Hartwell. I want to ask you not to leave Cottonwood on my account, if there is any reason whatever for your staying on."
"Thank you, Miss Sallie. I felt so lonesome and cussed, and full of blame last night after I'd talked with your mother that I just wanted to sneak off into a corner somewhere and die like a dog. But things have changed around wonderfully since then, Miss Sallie. I've just got to stay around here for a day or two more."
"I'm glad it's coming out right for you." She gave him such a look that his heart melted in him, as it felt, with a most delicious pain. "Have the cattlemen found out their mistake, Mr. Hartwell?"
"Not just yet," said he portentously. "A friend of mine—here he comes now."
Fannie and Hartwell had arranged between
