to see how
things _looked_--just so that you could look things _over_, couldn't
you? You wouldn't marry any man in a hurry. You could say you'd only
do your best as a sincere, honest woman--why, I have to tell that
stenographer what to write, all the time. She's sloppy."

"But _look_ at me, Annie--I wouldn't be worth anything as a
housekeeper." Mary Warren was arguing! "As to marrying that way----"

--"Letter'll say you're not asking any pay at all. You don't promise
anything. You don't ask _him_ to promise anything. You don't want any
wages. You don't let him pay your railroad fare out--not at all! You
ain't taking any chances nor asking him to take any chances,--unless
she falls in love with you for fair. Which I wouldn't wonder if he
did. You're a sweet girl, Mollie. Put fifteen pounds on you, and
you'd be a honey. You are anyway. Men always look at you--it's your
figure, part, maybe. And you're so good--and you're a _lady_, Sis.
And if I----"

"Tell him," said Mary Warren suddenly, pulling herself together with
the extremest effort of will and in the suddenest and sharpest decision
she had ever known in all her life, "tell him I'm square! Tell him
I'll be honest all the time--all the time!"

"As though you could be anything else, you poor dear!" said Annie
Squires, coming over and throwing a strong arm about Mary Warren's
neck, as though they both had done nothing but agree about this after a
dozen conversations. And then she wept, for she knew what Mary
Warren's surrender had cost. "And game! Game and square both, you
sweet thing," sobbed Annie Squires.

"Give me fifteen pounds on you," she wept, dabbing at her own eyes,
"and I wouldn't risk Charlie near you,--not a minute!"

CHAPTER VII

CHIVALROUS; AND OF ABUNDANT MEANS

Around the Two Forks Valley the snow still lay white and clean upon the
peaks, but the feet of the mountains were bathed in a rising flood of
green. On the bottom lands the grasses began to start, the willows
renewed their leafery. On the pools of the limpid stream the trout
left wrinkles and circles at midday now, as they rose to feed upon the
insects swarming in the warmth of the oncoming sun.

On this particular morning Wid Gardner turned down the practically
untrod lane along Sim's wire fence. Now and again he glanced at
something which he held in his hand.

When he entered Sim Gage's gate, the ancient mule, his head out of the
stable window, welcomed