nce, shrugged his shoulders and smiled coldly.

"I am not engaged to her," he said, doggedly; "as far as I know she is
free to--to choose for herself."

"Ah!" Bates slowly released his chin and caught his breath.

Westerfelt could have struck out the light that sprang into his eyes.
"I hain't seen a bit of evidence in that line, I'll admit," went on
Bates, with a chuckle of relief; "but some of the boys and girls seemed
to think that something might have sprung up between you and her while
you was laid up at the hotel. I reckon I was mistaken, but I thought
she looked cut up considerable when you didn't come to dinner with us
jest now. She wasn't lively like the rest."

"Pshaw!" said Westerfelt; "you are off the track."

"Well, no odds." Bates began to tug at his glove again. "I've come to
you like a man an' made an open breast of it, as the feller said. I
intend to ask her point-blank the very first time I get her alone
again. The girl hain't give me the least bit of hope, but her mother
has--a little. I reckon a feller might take it that way."

"What did Mrs. Floyd say?" Westerfelt started, and looked Bates
straight in the eyes.

"Oh, nothing much; I may be a fool to think it meant anything, but this
morning when I called for Miss Harriet the old lady came in and acted
mighty friendly. She asked me to come to dinner with 'em next Sunday,
and said Harriet always was backward about showing a preference for the
young man she really liked, an' said she was shore I didn't care much
for her or I'd come oftener."

Westerfelt was silent. He had never suspected Mrs. Floyd of scheming,
but now that his suspicions were roused he let them run to the opposite
extreme.

Yes, he thought, she was trying to marry her daughter off. Perhaps
because she wanted her to forget Wambush, who was certainly a man no
sensible woman would like to have in her family.

Bates's round red face appeared in a blur before him. Bates said
something, but it sounded far off, and he did not catch its import.
There was a long silence, and then the lawyer spoke again:

"What do you say? Why are you so devilish grum?" He took off his hat,
and wiped his brow with a red bandanna. Westerfelt stared into his
face. He was unable to collect his senses. It was an awful moment for
him. If he intended to marry her, and forget all, he must propose to
her at once, or, urged by her mother, she might marry Bates and be lost
to him forever. B