now what love is, strangers; but if
Jael Burn had told me to go and cut one of my hands off to please her,
I'd ha' done it. I'd ha' gone through fire and water for her, God bless
her! and if she'd tied one of her long, yaller hairs round my neck, she
might have led me about like a bar, rough as I am.

But it wouldn't do. I soon see which way the wind blew. She was the
only woman in camp, and could have the pick, and she picked Hez.

I was 'bout starin' mad first time I met them two together--she a
hanging on his arm, and looking up in his face, worshipping him like
some of them women can worship a great, big, strong lie; and as soon as
they war got by I swore a big oath as Hez should never have her, and I
plugged up my six-shooter, give my bowie a whetting, and lay wait for
him coming back.

It was a nice time that, as I sot there, seeing in fancy him kissin' her
sweet little face, and she hanging on him. If I was 'most mad afore, I
was ten times worse now; and when I heer'd Hez comin', I stood thereon a
shelf of rock, where the track came along, meaning to put half a dozen
plugs in him, and then pitch him over into the Gulch. But I was that
mad, that when he came up cheery and singing, I forgot all about my
shooting-iron and bowie, and went at him like a bar, hugging and
wrastling him, till we fell together close to the edge of the Gulch, and
I had only to give him a shove, and down he' ha' gone kelch on the hard
rocks ninety foot below.

"Now, Hez," I says; "how about your darling now? You'll cut in afore a
better man again, will yer?"

"Yes, if I live!" he says, stout-like, so as I couldn't help liking the
grit he showed. "That's right," he says; "pitch me over, and then go
and tell little Jael what you've done. She'll be fine and proud of yer
then, Abinadab Scales!"

He said that as I'd got him hanging over the rocks, and he looked me
full in the face, full of grit, though he was helpless as a babby; but I
didn't see his face then, for what I see was the face of Jael, wild and
passionate-like, asking me what I'd done with her love, and my heart
swelled so that I gave a sob like a woman, as I swung Hez round into
safety, and taking his place like, "Shove me over," I says, "and put me
out of my misery."

Poor old Hez! I hated him like pyson; but he wasn't that sort. 'Stead
of sending me over, now he had the chance, he claps his hand on my
shoulder, and he says, says he, "Dab, old man," he says, "give