for obvious reasons did not explain the true situation.

Other small matters served to neutralize the horror Rita might otherwise
have felt. The affair at the step-off had been freely talked about by
her friends in her presence, and the thought of it had soon become
familiar to her; but the best cure was her meeting with Doug Hill a
fortnight after the trial. It occurred on the square in the town of Blue
River. She saw Doug coming toward her, and was so shaken by emotions
that she feared she could not stand, but she recovered herself when he
said in his bluff manner:--

"Rita, I don't want to have no more fights with you. You're too quick on
trigger for Doug. But I want to tell you I don't hold no grudge agin'
you. You did jes' right. You orter a-killed me, but I'm mighty glad you
didn't. That shot of your'n was the best sermon I ever had preached to
me. I hain't tasted a drap of liquor since that day, and I never will.
I'm goin' to start to Illinoy to-morrow, and I'm goin' to get married
and be a man. Better marry me, Rita, and go along."

"I'm sure you will be a man, Doug," responded Rita. "I don't believe I
want to get married, but--but will you shake hands with me?"

"Bet I will, Rita. Mighty glad to. You've the best pluck of any girl on
yarth, with all you're so mild and kitten-like, and the purtiest girl,
too--yes, by gee, the purtiest girl in all the world. Everybody says so,
Rita." Rita blushed, and began to move away from his honest flattery, so
Doug said:--

"Well, good-by. Tell Dic good-by, and tell him I don't hold no grudge
agin' him neither. Hope he don't agin' me. He ortent to. He's got lots
the best of it--he won the fight and got you. Gee, I'd 'a' been glad to
lose the fight if I could 'a' got you."

Thus it happened that these two, who had last met with death between
them, parted as friends. Doug started for Illinois next day; and now he
drops out of this history.

I have spoken thus concerning Rita's feeling about the shooting of Doug
Hill to show you how easy it was for her, while sitting beside Williams
that placid Sunday afternoon, to break in upon his interesting
conversation with the irrelevant remark:--

"I once shot a man near this spot."

For a moment or two one might have supposed she had just shot Williams.
He sprang to his feet as if he intended to run from her, but at once
resumed his place, saying:--

"Miss Bays, your humor always surprises me. It takes me unawares. Of
course