mishap as any
one could wish.

"My prospects of marrying a few years ago," said Tully, lying full
stretch before the fire, "were a whole lot better than yours, Quirk. But
my ambition those days was to boss a herd up the trail and get top-notch
wages. She was a Texas girl, just like yours, bred up in Van Zandt
County. She could ride a horse like an Indian. Bad horses seemed afraid
of her. Why, I saw her once when she was about sixteen, take a black
stallion out of his stable,--lead him out with but a rope about his
neck,--throw a half hitch about his nose, and mount him as though he
was her pet. Bareback and without a bridle she rode him ten miles for a
doctor. There wasn't a mile of the distance either but he felt the quirt
burning in his flank and knew he was being ridden by a master. Her
father scolded her at the time, and boasted about it later.

"She had dozens of admirers, and the first impression I ever made on her
was when she was about twenty. There was a big tournament being given,
and all the young bloods in many counties came in to contest for the
prizes. I was a double winner in the games and contests--won a roping
prize and was the only lad that came inside the time limit as a lancer,
though several beat me on rings. Of course the tournament ended with a
ball. Having won the lance prize, it was my privilege of crowning the
'queen' of the ball. Of course I wasn't going to throw away such a
chance, for there was no end of rivalry amongst the girls over it. The
crown was made of flowers, or if there were none in season, of live-oak
leaves. Well, at the ball after the tournament I crowned Miss Kate with
a crown of oak leaves. After that I felt bold enough to crowd matters,
and things came my way. We were to be married during Easter week,
but her mother up and died, so we put it off awhile for the sake of
appearances.

"The next spring I got a chance to boss a herd up the trail for Jesse
Ellison. It was the chance of my life and I couldn't think of refusing.
The girl put up quite a mouth about it, and I explained to her that a
hundred a month wasn't offered to every man. She finally gave in, but
still you could see she wasn't pleased. Girls that way don't sabe cattle
matters a little bit. She promised to write me at several points which
I told her the herd would pass. When I bade her good-by, tears stood in
her eyes, though she tried to hide them. I'd have gambled my life on her
that morning.

"Well, we ha