manded Flora, her eyes glowing. "It sounds to me
exactly like a piece of spiteful old-woman gossip, and I don't believe
a word of it!"

"Jim ain't a gossip. He kept his mouth shut because he didn't want to
make trouble, and he was under the impression the Swede had borrowed
a gun somewhere. Being half drunk, he could easy forget what he'd done
with his own, and the Pilgrim put up such a straight story--"

"Fred told the truth. I know he did. I don't _believe_ he had a gun
that night, because--because I had asked him as a favor to please not
carry one to dances and places. There, now! He'd do what I asked him
to. I know he would. And I think you're just mean, to talk like this
about him; and, mind you, if he wants to come here he can. I don't
care if he comes _every day_!" She was so near to tears that her voice
broke and kept her from saying more that was foolish.

"And I tell yuh, if he comes around here any more I'll chase him off
the ranch with a club!" Billy's voice was not as loud as usual, but
it was harsh and angry. "He ain't going to come here hanging around
you--not while _I_ can help it, and I guess I can, all right!" He
threw down the dish towel, swept a cup off the table with his elbow
when he turned, and otherwise betrayed human, unromantic rage. "Damn
him, I wisht I'd chased him off long ago. Fred, eh? Hell! _I'll_ Fred
him! Yuh think I'm going to stand for him running after my girl? I'll
kick him off the place. He ain't fit to speak to yuh, or look at yuh;
his friendship's an insult to any decent woman. I'll mighty quick put
a stop to--"

"Will Boyle, you don't _dare_! I'm not your wife yet, remember! I'm
free to choose my own friends without asking leave of any one, and if
I want Fred Walland to come here, he'll _come_, and it will take more
than you to stop him. I--I'll write him a note, and ask him to dinner
next Sunday. I--I'll _marry_ him if I want to, Will Boyle, and you
can't stop me! He--he wants me to, badly enough, and if you--"

Billy was gone, and the kitchen was rattling with the slam of the door
behind him, before she had time to make any more declarations that
would bring repentance afterward. She stood a minute, listening to see
whether he would come back, and when he did not, she ran to the
door, opened it hastily and looked. She saw Billy just in the act
of swishing his quirt down on the flanks of Barney so that the horse
almost cleared the creek in one bound. Flora caught her breat