ny other
dream.

But if Alexander thought of Bud only as the author of her present
anxiety, her thoughts strayed before she fell asleep, to another man.

The face and figure of that Colossus who had swung men right and left,
rose before her and her worship of masculine strength and courage paid
smiling tribute.

"I reckon he don't never hev ter use more'n half ther strength he's got
in them arms an' shoulders of his'n," she told herself. It did not
enter troublesomely into her reflections that she had marked also the
infectious quality of his smile and the clear brightness of his eye
with an interest that was purely feminine.

As her lids finally grew heavy she murmured to herself: "Ef I was like
other gals I reckon I'd git sort of crazy erbout thet big feller. He's
like a pine tree standin' up amongst saplin's--but I don't reckon a
body could hardly ever git him clean, even ef they soaked him in hot
suds fer a week of Sundays."

With that reflection--also fastidiously feminine--she turned on her
side and slept.

It was into a room below that Lute Johnson stumbled long after midnight
on most unsteady legs. Lute was not satisfied with his evening. He
had been actuated in his attempted hazing of Alexander by Jase Mallows,
who thought her pride should be humbled, yet sought to accomplish that
end vicariously in order that the doors of future conquest might not be
closed against himself. Lute's undertaking had not been a success and
he sought his bed, sodden and bloodshot of eye. He was nursing grudges
of varying degrees against Jase Mallows, Alexander, Halloway and
finally against Bud Sellers.

He kicked off his brogans and as he leaned to blow out the light, he
stumbled, sprawling headlong and carrying the lamp down with him. For
a moment he lay where he had fallen, too dazed and befuddled to rise,
but presently he clambered up, his eyes wide and terrified, for his
rising was Phoenix-like--mantled in flame. With incredible swiftness
the flimsy coverings of his bed had burst into a crimson glare and even
his clothing was afire.

Beating out the flame that licked his shirt, he abandoned the rest and
fled, howling like a madman. The thing which D. W. Kelly had feared
had come to pass and the frame building was doomed to its gutting.

So frequently of late had ungodly bellowings and outcries broken the
fitful rest of this house, that for a brief space, Lute's howls of
alarm failed to carry their true sign