ke Ben that way. So I have t' go up to him, stroke his mane, fix his
curb, and let some cool air under his collar. After while, he gives a
_haw-hee-haw_ and goes on."

Lounsbury did not laugh. "He balked when it came to me," he said
soberly. "And it hurt. Afterward--I kinda got it into my head that none
of you wanted me."

She looked straight at him. "But one did--_one did_," she whispered,
choking.

He pulled his hands free of his pockets. "One--one," he said huskily.
"Who?"

And now everything was clear to her. She knew just what to say. She had
no feelings of self; the duty was not hateful, nor embarrassing. "Who?"
she repeated. "Don't you know, Mr. Lounsbury? Why, Marylyn."

"Marylyn," he echoed as if in a puzzle; "Marylyn. You're joking!"

She caught a shade of reproach in that, and misunderstood it. "I reckon
you won't like her so well now," she said.

"Like her so well? I don't know what you mean."

"She--she likes you," stammered Dallas.

Still he was puzzled. "I _supposed_ she didn't hate me."

"But now you know."

There was no mistaking her. Utterly dumfounded, he could not trust an
immediate answer. "I see, I see," he said finally.

"And you'll like her just the same?"

He drew a deep breath. His eyes were on her face, trying to read it in
the dimness. Then, "I am not a cub boy, Miss Dallas."

"You won't stay away," she persisted. "You'll come."

"If I'm judging right, I mustn't. I'm--I'm sorry."

"Sorry!--just sorry."

He strode back and forth a few times. "Why--why, Miss Dallas, you must
understand that a man can't--when a girl----Well, it'd be low for me to
talk about it, that's all--out and out _low_."

Something stirred her powerfully then--something she combated, and
concealed from him by a touch of apparent anger. "There's nothing low
about it," she said. "A man ought to be proud. Oh," as he was about to
reply, "you don't know how she's felt. She's been sick over it, white
and sad, and at night she'd cry."

He winced.

"And you're just sorry!"

"When did you find this out?"

"That day you drove Matthews away. She told me."

He walked about again. "I can't see why she does," he mused
pathetically. "I can't remember doing anything."

"But you've been so good to us--even after the way dad acted--guarded
out here, and sent that land-office man down from Bismarck----"

He made a protesting gesture. "Pshaw!"

"Oh, yes, you did. And why? _Why?_--if you don't care----"

A lo