"Dammit, I tell you----"
"That"s right, swear," she interrupted. "A man always does that when he can"t think of anything else to say."
"I"m gonna marry you," he persisted sullenly.
"If it does you any good, keep right on thinking so. It can"t hurt me."
"Has Bill Wingo----" he began, but sensed his mistake and stopped--too late.
"You mean am I in love with Billy Wingo?" she put in helpfully. "My answer is, not at present."
"Meaning that you may be later on, I suppose."
"I didn"t say so. Lord, man, haven"t I a right to bestow my heart anywhere I like? I intend to, old-timer."
"You ain"t gonna marry anybody but me," he insisted stubbornly.
"There you go again. Leave the melodrama alone, can"t you? This isn"t a play. It"s real life."
"I said I was gonna have you and I am," he said slowly. "Neither Bill Wingo nor anybody else is gonna get you. You were always intended for me. You"re mine, understand, mine!"
Jamming his horse against hers he pinioned both her hands with his right, swung his left arm round her waist and crushed her gasping against his chest. Be sure she struggled; but he was a man, and strong. Forcing the back of the hand that confined her two hands under her chin, he tilted her head up and backwards. Tightly she screwed up her mouth so that her lips were invisible. Once, twice and again he kissed her compressed mouth.
"There," he muttered, releasing her so abruptly that she almost fell out of the saddle and only saved herself by catching the saddle horn with both hands. "There. I"ve heard you boasted that no man had ever kissed you. Well, you"re kissed now and you won"t forget it in a hurry."
She settled her toes in the stirrups and faced him, her body shaking.
Her hat had fallen off, her copper-colored hair hung tousled about her ears. Violet eyes sparkling under the black eyebrows, lips drawn back revealing the white, even teeth--her features were a mask of rage--a rage that seethed and boiled in her pa.s.sionate heart.
Never in her life had she been so despitefully used. Had she had a gun, she would have shot the man. But she did not have a gun--nor any other weapon. She had even dropped her quirt somewhere.
"Oh!" she cried, striking her fists together. "Oh! I could kill you!
You dog! You beast! Faugh!" Here she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and wiped her hand on her horse"s mane. "When I get home,"
she raved on, "I"ll try to wash the touch of your mouth off with soap, but I don"t believe even ammonia will ever make my lips feel clean again!"
He laughed. She began to cry as her rage overflowed her heart.
"When I tell my father," she sobbed, "he will kill you!"
"Here, stop crying," he directed, stretching forth an arm and leaning toward her.
At that she came alive with startling suddenness and with a full-armed sweep scored his cheek with her finger nails from temple to jaw.
"Don"t touch me!" she squalled. "Don"t touch me! When my father gets through with you----" She left the sentence unfinished and wheeled her horse.
But he was too quick for her and seized the bridle rein and swung her mount back.
"Listen," he said, his voice quiet but his eyes ablaze, "don"t say anything to your father."
"Afraid now, are you?" she taunted sneeringly.
"Not for me, for him. I don"t want any trouble with your pa, not any.
But if he jumps me, I"ll have to defend myself. And you know your pa was never very quick on the draw, Sally Jane. So long."
He let her bridle go and moved aside. She s.n.a.t.c.hed her horse around with a jerk and flew homeward at a gallop.
CHAPTER TWO
A SAFE MAN
"We gotta be careful," cautioned Tom Driver, the local justice of the peace.
"Careful is our middle name," Rafe Tuckleton said rea.s.suringly.
"I know, I know," persisted Driver. "But you can"t fool all the people all----"
"Abe Lincoln said it first," Felix Craft interrupted impatiently. "But he didn"t live in Crocker County."
"Or he wouldn"t have said it, huh?" flung in Tip O"Gorman. "Don"t you fool yourself, Crafty. Tom"s right. Human nature don"t change any."
"I s"pose you mean give the people a square deal then," sneered Felix.
"If he does, he"s crazy," said a lanky citizen named Shindle.
O"Gorman grinned a wide Irish smile. "No, I ain"t crazy, but we"ll give "em a square deal alla same."
"He is crazy," declared lank Shindle.
"A square deal," repeated O"Gorman. "A square deal--for us."
"I thought so," nodded plump Sam Larder, speaking for the first time since the beginning of the discussion. "A square deal--for us. Let"s hear it, Tip."
O"Gorman sat back in his chair and crossed his legs. "When a dog is hungry it ain"t sensible to feed him a whole juicy steak. He"ll gobble it down an" come pesterin" round for more in five minutes. But give him a bone and he"ll gnaw and gnaw and be a satisfied dog for quite a long while."
"What kind of a bone were you figuring on giving our dog?" inquired Tom Driver.
"Sheriff." Thus Tip O"Gorman with finality.
Felix Craft shook a decided head.
"Guess again. Too much meat on that bone."
"Not if it"s the right kind of meat," said O"Gorman blandly.
"Stop walking in the water," grunted the impatient Felix. "Say it right out."
"A sheriff with a ring in his nose," explained O"Gorman.