"You can't come in here, Jack Rance," she said in a resolute voice. "You
can tell me what you want from where you are."

Roughly, almost brutally, Rance shoved her to one side and entered.

"No more Jack Rance. It's the Sheriff coming after Mr. Johnson," he
said, emphasizing each word.

The Girl eyed him defiantly.

"Yes, I said Mr. Johnson," reiterated the Sheriff, cocking the gun that
he held in his hand. "I saw him coming in here."

"It's more 'n I did," returned the Girl, evenly, and bolted the door.
"Do you think I'd want to shield a man who tried to rob me?" she asked,
facing him.

Ignoring the question, Rance removed the glove of his weaponless hand
and strode to the curtains that enclosed the Girl's bed and parted them.
When he turned back he was met by a scornful look and the words:

"So, you doubt me, do you? Well, go on--search the place. But this ends
your acquaintance with The Polka. Don't you ever speak to me again.
We're through."

Suddenly there came a smothered groan from the man in the loft; Rance
wheeled round quickly and brought up his gun, demanding:

"What's that? What's that?"

Leaning against the bureau the Girl laughed outright and declared that
the Sheriff was becoming as nervous as an old woman. Her ridicule was
not without its effect, and, presently, Rance uncocked his gun and
replaced it in its holster. Advancing now to the table where the Girl
was standing, he took off his cap and shook it before laying it down;
then, pointing to the door, his eyes never leaving the Girl's face, he
went on accusingly:

"I saw someone standing out there against the snow. I fired. I could
have sworn it was a man."

The Girl winced. But as she stood watching him calmly remove his coat
and shake it with the air of one determined to make himself at home, she
cried out tauntingly:

"Why do you stop? Why don't you go on--finish your search--only don't
ever speak to me again."

At that, Rance became conciliatory.

"Say, Min, I don't want to quarrel with you."

Turning her back on him the Girl moved over to the bureau where she
snapped out over her shoulder:

"Go on with your search, then p'r'aps you'll leave a lady to herself to
go to bed."

The Sheriff followed her up with the declaration:

"I'm plumb crazy about you, Min."

The Girl shrugged her shoulder.

"I could have sworn I saw--I--Oh, you know it's just you for me--just
you, and curse the man you like better. I--I--even yet I can'