. He withdrew his hand with a
jerk, as if something in the pocket had stung him.

"No, I wasn't thinking of smoking. I was thinking of you. What's a man
to do when he wants a woman but ask her to marry him? That's all that
I'm doing. I can't do it in style. I know that. But I can use
straight English, and that's good enough for me. I sure want you
mighty bad, Miss Mason. You're in my mind 'most all the time, now.
And what I want to know is--well, do you want me? That's all."

"I--I wish you hadn't asked," she said softly.

"Mebbe it's best you should know a few things before you give me an
answer," he went on, ignoring the fact that the answer had already been
given. "I never went after a woman before in my life, all reports to
the contrary not withstanding. The stuff you read about me in the
papers and books, about me being a lady-killer, is all wrong. There's
not an iota of truth in it. I guess I've done more than my share of
card-playing and whiskey-drinking, but women I've let alone. There was
a woman that killed herself, but I didn't know she wanted me that bad
or else I'd have married her--not for love, but to keep her from
killing herself. She was the best of the boiling, but I never gave her
any encouragement. I'm telling you all this because you've read about
it, and I want you to get it straight from me.

"Lady-killer!" he snorted. "Why, Miss Mason, I don't mind telling you
that I've sure been scairt of women all my life. You're the first one
I've not been afraid of. That's the strange thing about it. I just
plumb worship you, and yet I'm not afraid of you. Mebbe it's because
you're different from the women I know. You've never chased me.
Lady-killer! Why, I've been running away from ladies ever since I can
remember, and I guess all that saved me was that I was strong in the
wind and that I never fell down and broke a leg or anything.

"I didn't ever want to get married until after I met you, and until a
long time after I met you. I cottoned to you from the start; but I
never thought it would get as bad as marriage. Why, I can't get to
sleep nights, thinking of you and wanting you."

He came to a stop and waited. She had taken the lace and muslin from
the basket, possibly to settle her nerves and wits, and was sewing upon
it. As she was not looking at him, he devoured her with his eyes. He
noted the firm, efficient hands--hands that could control a horse like
Bob, that could run