r not. So you won't hold that against me--that little scrimmage of
last month, especially as you came out best man."

"I used to have a boss, myself," Willock spoke uncompromisingly. "But
when he give me certain orders, one particular night that I recollect,
I knocked him on the head and put out for other parts. You must of
thought yourself in PRETTY business coming over here to take away the
land and all on it, that's belonged to me for nine years, and nobody
never having tried to prize me out of it except some trifling Injuns
and horse-thieves. Ain't they NO honesty in the world? Hasn't no man
his property rights? I guess your boss knowed this wasn't HIS land,
didn't he? What's going to become of this country when man isn't
satisfied with what is his'n? Well, now you've had a little talk with
me, and hoping you've enjoyed it, you can just mosey along. I'll send
your weapons after you by a messenger."

The young man cast a despairing glance toward the girl who stood like a
statue in her doorway, gravely listening. The man with the bushy white
hair had drawn near, but evidently with no thought of interfering.

"Willock," the voice came so eager, so impetuous, that the words were
somewhat incoherent, "I've GOT to talk to your daughter--hold on, don't
shoot, LISTEN!--that's what I've come for, to see her and--and meet her
and hear her voice. I can't help it, can I? It's been two long years
since I left home, back East, and in all these two years I've never
seen anything like your little girl and--and what harm can it do? I
say! Have pity on a fellow, and do him the biggest favor he could
enjoy on this earth when it won't cost you a penny, or a turn of your
hand. Look here--hold on, don't turn away! I'm just so lonesome, so
homesick, so dead KILLED by all these sand-hills and alkali beds and
nothing to talk to from one year's end to the next but men and
cattle...."

Willock glared at him in silence, fingering the trigger thoughtfully.

"There I've sat, on that hill," he continued, "since two o'clock last
night, waiting for daylight so I could ask you to help a miserable
wretch that's just starving to death for the sound of a girl's voice,
and the sight of a girl's smile. Isn't this square, waiting for you,
and telling you the whole truth? I never saw her but once, and that
was from this same hill. She didn't know I was watching; it was
yesterday. Maybe all I'm saying sounds just crazy to you, and I reck