ke your path--easier. Your troubles ain't yours
any longer. They sure ain't. They're mine, now, if you'll jest hand
'em to me. Disaster? No, no, little gal. Don't you to cry. Don't. Your
eyes weren't made for cryin'. They're jest given you to be a man's
hope. For you to see just how much love he's got for you."

Joan submitted to his embrace for just so long as he was speaking.
Then she looked up with terrified eyes and released herself.

"No, no, Buck. I must not listen. I dare not. It is my fate. My
terrible fate. You don't understand. Beasley was right. I _was_
responsible for Ike's death. For Pete's death. But not in the way he
meant. It is my curse. They loved me, and--disaster followed
instantly. Can't you see? Can't you see? Oh, my dear, can't you see
that this same disaster must dog you--now?"

Buck stared. Then he gathered himself together.

"Your fate?"

"Yes, yes. I am cursed. Oh," Joan suddenly gave a shrill laugh that
was painful to hear. "Every man that has ever told me--what you have
told me--has met with disaster, and--death."

For one second no sound broke the stillness of the barn but the
restless movements of Caesar. Then, suddenly, a laugh, a clear, buoyant
laugh, full of defiance, full of incredulity, rang through the
building.

It was Buck. He moved forward, and in a moment the girl was lying
close upon his breast.

"Is that the reason you mustn't, daren't, listen to me?" he cried, in
a voice thrilling with hope and confidence. "Is that the only reason?
Jest because of death an' disaster to me? Jest that, an'--nothing
more? Tell me, little gal. Tell me or--or I'll go mad."

"Yes, yes. But oh, you don't----"

"Yes, I do. Say, Joan, my little, little gal. Tell me. Tell me right
now. You ain't--hatin' me for--for loving you so bad. Tell me."

Joan hid her face, and the tall man had to bend low to catch her
words.

"I couldn't hate you, Buck. I--I----"

But Buck heard no more. He almost forcibly lifted the beautiful,
tearful face to his, as he bent and smothered it with kisses.

After a few moments he stood her away from him, holding her slight
shoulders, one in each hand. His dark eyes were glowing with a wild
happiness, a wonderful, reckless fire, as he peered into her blushing
face.

"You love me, little gal? You love me? Was ther' ever such a thought
in the mind of sane man? You love me? The great big God's been mighty
good to me. Disaster? Death? Let all the powers of man or de