r
lynchin' twice, and I hates the looks of a slip-noose yet; but I gotta
have money."

As he stood above her, looking down upon her anxious face, a thought came
to him, a plan so simple that he was amazed that it had not occurred to
him before. Undoubtedly she had money in the bank, this infatuated,
love-sick-woman--the Scotchman would have taught her how to save and care
for it; but if she had not, she had resources which amounted to the same:
the best of security upon which she could borrow money. He was sure that
her cattle and horses were free of mortgages, and there was the coming
crop of hay. She had promised him the proceeds from that, if he would
stay, but the sale of it was still months away.

"If I had a stake, Prairie Flower," he said mournfully, "I'd cut out this
crooked work and quit takin' chances. But a feller like me has got pride:
he can't go around without two bits in his pocket, and feel like a man. If
I had the price, I'd buy me a good bunch of cattle, get a permit, and
range 'em on the reserve."

"When we get tied right," said the woman eagerly, "I give you de stake
_quick_."

Smith shook his head.

"Do you think I'm goin' to have the whole country sayin' I just married
you for what you got? I've got some feelin's, me--Smith, and before I
marry a rich woman, I want to have a little somethin' of my own."

She looked pleased, for Susie's words had rankled.

"How big bunch cattle you like buy? How much money you want?"

He shook his head dejectedly.

"More money nor I can raise, Prairie Flower. Five--ten thousand
dollars--maybe more." He watched the effect of his words narrowly. She did
not seem startled by the size of the sums he mentioned. He added: "There's
nothin' in monkeyin' with just a few."

"I got de money, and I gift it to you. My heart is right to you, white
man!" she said passionately.

"Do you mean it, Prairie Flower?"

"Yas, but don't tell Susie."

He watched her going up the path, her hips wobbling, her step heavy, and
he hated her. Her love irritated him; her devotion was ridiculous. He saw
in her only a means to an end, and he was without scruples or pity.

"She ain't no more to me nor a dumb brute," he said contemptuously.

Smith felt that he was able to foretell with considerable accuracy the
nature of his interview with Susie upon their meeting, and her opening
words did not fall short of his expectations.

"You're all right, you are!" she said in her high voice.