hat
you were in Camas a night or two ago."

Inwardly, Rowdy dodged. "We camped close to Camas," he conceded
guardedly. "A lot of us fellows rode into town."

"Yes, so Harry told me," she said. "He came over to see me yesterday.
He is going to leave--has already, in fact. He has had a fine position
offered him by the Indian agent at Belknap. The agent used to be
a friend of father's." She looked at Rowdy sidelong, and then went
straight at what was in the minds of both.

"I'm sorry to hear, Mr. Vaughan, that you are on bad terms with Harry.
What was the trouble?" She turned her head and smiled at him--but the
smile did not bring his lips to answer; it was unpleasantly like the way
Harry smiled when he had some deviltry in mind.

Rowdy scented trouble and parried. "Men can't always get along agreeably
together."

"And you disagree with a man rather emphatically, I should judge. Harry
said you knocked him down." Politeness ruled her voice, but cheeks and
eyes were aflame.

"I did. And of course he told you how he took a shot at me from a dark
corner, outside." Rowdy's eyes, it would seem, had kindled from the fire
in hers.

"No, he didn't--but I--you struck him first."

"Hitting a man with your fist is one thing," said Rowdy with decision.
"Shooting at him from ambush is another."

"Harry shouldn't have done that," she admitted with dignity. "But why
wouldn't you take a drink with him? Not that I approve of drinking--I
wish Harry wouldn't do such things--but he said it was an insult the way
you refused."

"Jessie--"

"Miss Conroy, please."

"Jessie"--he repeated the name stubbornly--"I think we'd better drop
that subject. You don't understand the case; and, anyway, I didn't come
here to discuss Harry. Our trouble is long standing, and if I insulted
him you ought to know I had a reason. I never came whining to you about
him, and it don't speak well for him that he hot-footed over to you with
his version. I suppose he'd heard about me--er--going to see you, and
wanted to queer me. I hope you'll take my word for it, Jessie, that I've
never harmed him; all the trouble he's made for himself, one way and
another.

"But what I came over for to-day concerns just you and me. I wanted
to tell you that--to ask you if you'll marry me. I might put it more
artistic, Jessie, but that's what I mean, and--I mean all the things
I'd like to say and can't." He stopped and smiled at her, wistfully
whimsical. "I've been three