else, I reckon; I couldn't 'a' changed it if I'd 'a' tried."
"Maybe not, sir."
"I was aimin' and hopin' to see you settled down here, Texas. There must be something laid out for you besides roamin' and lookin' and never findin'. I wish I could tell you what it is."
"I wish I could tell myself, Uncle Boley, sir."
"I'm put out, and I'm put out worse than I ever was over anything in my life, over the way Sallie's acted up. It ain't like her—she must know them cow-men cleared you, and she ought to be big enough to come in here like a man and tell you she's glad."
"Maybe she isn't a bit glad, sir," said Texas, sadly.
"Yes, she is, dang her little melts! She's holdin' Fannie ag'in you, that's what's eatin' her. Well, if she knew—"
"She mustn't know, sir," Texas interposed, hastily. "Anyhow, not till I'm gone and out of the way."
"I ain't decided she deserves to know at all, Texas. If a woman ain't got faith enough in a man—"
"You can't blame her, sir, at all. It looked bad—even you thought I wasn't straight for a little while."
