got everything that had gone. You fergot I was a square
dealin' man by you, an' since that time I've been dirt under your
feet. Pshaw! it ain't no use in talkin'; you know these things just as
well as I do. But you might have given me a show. You might have
treated me 'white.' It was to your interest. I'd have stayed by you.
I'd have done good by you. An' I'd have been real sorry when you died.
But I ain't no use fer that sort o' thing now. What I want I'm goin'
to have, an' you've got to give--see? It ain't a question of
'by-your-leave' now. I say right here I want your gal."

The man paused. But Marbolt remained undisturbed. He still beat an
idle tattoo on the table, only his hand had drawn nearer to the lamp
and the steady rapping of his fingers was a shade louder, as though
more nervous force were unconsciously finding outlet in the movement.

"So you want my girl," he said, his lips scarcely parting to let the
tone of his voice pass.

"Ay," Jake said emphatically, "I want that gal as I took out o' the
water once. You remember. You said she'd fell overboard, after I'd
hauled her back on to the ship out o' reach o' the sharks. That's what
you said--after."

He paused significantly. If he had expected any display from his
hearer he must have been disappointed. The other remained quite still
except for those moving fingers tapping their way nearer and nearer
the lamp.

"Go on."

"Wal, I've told you how I stand, an' I've told you how you stand,"
Jake proceeded, with his voice ever so little raised. He felt that the
other was too easy. And, in his unimaginative way, he thought he had
spoken too gently. "An' I say again I want that gal fer my wife. Time
was when you would have been glad to be quit of her, 'bout the time
she fell overboard. Being ready to part then, why not now? I'm goin'
to get her,--an' what do I pay in return? You know. You'll go on
ranchin' in peace. I'll even stay your foreman if you so want. I'll
shut right down on the business we both know of, an' you won't have
nothin' to fear. It's a fair an' square deal."

"A fair and square deal; most generous."

Even Jake detected the sarcasm, and his anger rose at once. But he
gave no heed to those fingers which had now transferred their
attention to the brass body of the lamp.

"I'm waitin' fer your answer," he said sharply.

Tresler now heard his words for the first time.

"Go slow, Jake, go slow," retorted the rancher. "I like to digest the
p