hat
Riley Sinclair don't handle his own word careless. And I give you my
solemn word of honor that I didn't know she was a girl till this
evening, and that, right away after I found it out, I come down here to
straighten things out with you if I could. Will you believe it?"

It was a strange study to watch the working in the face of
Cartwright--of hope, passion, doubt, hatred. He leaned closer to
Sinclair, his big hands clutched together.

"Sinclair, I wish I could believe it!"

"Look me in the eye, man! I can stand it."

"By the Lord, it's true! But, Sinclair, have you come down to find out
if I'd take her back?"

"Would you?"

The other grew instantly crafty. "She's done me a pile of wrong,
Sinclair."

"She has," said the cowpuncher. He went on gently: "She must of cut
into your pride a lot."

"Oh, if it was known," said Cartwright, turning pale at the thought,
"she'd make me a laughing stock! Me, old Cartwright's son!"

"Yep, that'd be bad." He wondered at the frank egoism of the youth.

"I leave it to you," said Cartwright, settling back in his chair.
"Something had ought to be done to punish her. Besides, she's a weight
on your hands, and I can see you'd be anxious to get rid of her quick."

"How d'you aim to punish her?" asked Sinclair.

"Me?"

"Sure! Kind of a hard thing to do, wouldn't it be?"

Cartwright's eyes grew small. "Ways could be found." He swallowed hard.
"I'd find a heap of ways to make her wish she'd died sooner'n shame
me!"

"I s'pose you could," said Sinclair slowly. He lowered his glance for a
moment to keep his scorn from standing up in his eyes. "But I've heard
of men, Cartwright, that'd love a woman so hard that they'd forgive
anything."

"The world's full of fools," said the rich rancher. He stabbed a stern
forefinger into the palm of his other hand. "She's got to do a lot of
explaining before I'll look at her. She's got to make me an accounting
of every day she's spent since I last seen her at--"

"At the wedding?" asked Sinclair cruelly.

Cartwright writhed in the chair till it groaned beneath his uneasy
weight. "She told you that?"

"Look here," went on Sinclair, assuming a new tone of frank inquiry.
"Let's see if we can't find out why she left you?"

"They ain't any reason--just plain fool woman, that's all."

"But maybe she didn't love you, Cartwright. Did you ever think of
that?"

The big man stared. "Not love me? Who _would_ she love, then? Was they
anybod