none.
Pa'd die before he'd beg."

The girl was herself now; she was talking naturally, feelingly, and her
voice was both deep and pleasing.

"The thinner Ma got, the more she talked about the mountains, where
there was water--cool, clear water in the criks. And timber on the
hills--timber with green leaves on it. And grass that you could lay
down in and smell. I guess Ma was kind of feverish. We was drier 'n a
lime-burner's boot when the rain did come. I'll never forget--we all
stood out in it and soaked it up. It was wonderful, to get all wet and
soaky, and not with sweat."

"Then on top of that the oil came, too. It _must_ have been wonderful."

"Yep. Now we're rich. And buyin' di'mon's and pianos and goin' to
Dallas for pretty fixin's. Seems kinda dreamy." Allegheny Briskow
closed her eyes, her massive crown of damp, disordered hair drooped
backward and for a moment Gray was able, unobserved, to study her.

She had revealed herself to him, suddenly, in the space of a few
moments, and the revelation added such poignancy to his previous
thoughts that he regarded her with a wholly new sympathy. There was
nothing dull about this girl. On the contrary, she had intelligence and
feeling. There had been a rich vibrance in her voice as she told of
that frightful ordeal; a dimness had come into her eyes as she spoke of
her mother gabbling feverishly of the green hills and babbling brooks;
she had yearned maternally at mention of those wretched little
children. No, there was a sincere emotional quality concealed in this
young giantess, and a sensitiveness quite unexpected.

Gray remained silent until she opened her eyes; then he said: "When you
and your mother come to Dallas to do your shopping, won't you let me
take you around to the right shops and see that you get the right
things?" Then, prompted by the girl's quick resentment, he added,
hastily, "--at the right prices?"

Allie's face cleared. "Why, that's right nice of you!" she declared.
"I--I reckon we'd be glad to."

Gus Briskow was a sandy, angular man; a ring of air holes cut in the
crown of his faded felt hat showed a head of hair faded to match the
color of his headgear; his greasy overalls were tucked into boots, and
a ragged Joseph's coat covered his flannel shirt. Both the man and his
makeup were thoroughly typical of this part of the country, except in
one particular--Pa Briskow possessed the brightest, the shrewdest pair
of blue eyes that Calvin Gray