honest—and I was ashamed to go back and tell him!"
"Just a fool fit of jealousy, and look what you done."
"He's gone away thinkin' I'm ungrateful, and a mean, proud, foolish thing!"
"Maybe not. He was too good and square to think hard of other folks, especially when he—where've you been trapesin' around to, Sallie?"
"I went down to Duncan's night before last, Uncle Boley. I'm going home."
"Oh, you did? Had to go down and let 'em know you're rich agin, did you?"
"I went to take him the word that Stott sent us before he ran away with the bank's money, Uncle Boley."
"Did that dish-faced Dutch houn' send word to you that Texas wasn't to blame for them fever cattle, Sallie?"
"Yes, Uncle Boley," she replied softly, her face turned away still, the flush deeper over her cheeks and neck.
"And you took your horse in the night and went tearin' off to Duncan's alone to tell him?"
"It wasn't anything to what she—the other one—did for him," she said, her words almost a whisper, her eyes cast down.
"No," Uncle Boley admitted, with ungenerous
