o Rome at the time of the fall, which he
attributed to luxury; he informed me that only men who were unable to
work, or in any way help themselves, wrote books. "The woman's worth the
two of you," he said. "Her people were workers. See it in her stride.
She could milk a cow if she had one. If anything happens to me she'll
give the orders. Mark my words. She's got a head on her shoulders, she
has."

The bride halted suddenly in her tracks and, turning, faced the groom.

"Are you going to allow this man's insolence to run on forever?" she
said.

The groom frowned at her and shook his head covertly.

"Pooh," said the bride, and I think I heard her call him "_my
champion_," in a bitter whisper. She walked straight back to Farallone
and looked him fearlessly in the face.

"The bigger a man is, Mr. Farallone," she said, "and the stronger, the
more he ought to mind his manners. We are grateful to you for all you
have done, but if you cannot keep a civil tongue in your head, then the
sooner we part company the better."

For a full minute the fearless eyes snapped at Farallone, then, suddenly
abashed, softened, and turned away.

"There mustn't be any more mutiny," said Farallone. "But you've got
sand, you have. I could love a woman like you. How did you come to hitch
your wagon to little Nicodemus there? He's no star. You deserved a man.
You've got sand, and when your poor feet go back on you, as they will in
this swill (here he kicked the burning sand), I'll carry you. But if you
hadn't spoken up so pert, I wouldn't. Now you walk ahead and pretend
you're Christopher Columbus De Soto Peary leading a flock of sheep to
the Fountain of Eternal Youth.... Bear to the left of the sage-brush,
there's a tarantula under it...."

We went forward a few steps, when suddenly I heard Farallone's voice in
my ear. "Isn't she splendid?" he said, and at the same time he thumped
me so violently between the shoulders that I stumbled and fell. For a
moment all fear of the man left me on the wings of rage, and I was for
attacking him with my fists. But something in his steady eye brought me
to my senses.

"Why did you do that?" I meant to speak sharply, but I think I whined.

"Because," said Farallone, "when the woman spoke up to me you began to
brindle and act lion-like and bold. For a minute you looked
dangerous--for a little feller. So I patted your back, in a friendly
way--as a kind of reminder--a feeble reminder."

We had dropped b