"What for do you let these here fellers get off them bum jokes?" said Lafe suddenly, one day at dinner. He was in high dudgeon. The sheriff was a regular boarder at the Fashion now, but seldom did he offer a word to the waitress, or she one to him.
"If it amuses them, let 'em do it. It don't hurt me," she said, unruffled.
"Yes it does, too, hurt you. Say, you'd ought to wear a high collar."
"You mind your own business," Hetty cried hotly and flushed to the tips of her ears.
The white, white column of her neck was always bare, for she knew its beauty full as well as did anybody else and wore her dress cut low accordingly; and Mr. Johnson had noted with consuming rage that it held the rapt gaze of the diners. Indeed, she was a strapping, fine woman. Black hair, heavy black eye-brows, blue eyes and a dazzling skin--they made an unusual combination. Hetty carried herself fearlessly erect. Her figure was full but supple, and she walked as if her body held inexhaustible reserves of strength.
He said no more then, but later broke out with the stunning declaration that waiting on table was no fit job for a lady--not with a lot of lazy loafers round, especially. His proposition was that she get out of the Fashion and go to live with the Widow Brown, who was a nice, respectable woman, and would be company for her. And the sheriff would see that she got a job of some sort. Or perhaps she would like to go on a visit to Mrs. Floyd, whose husband owned the Lazy L range. He would secure her an invitation.
"You're awful kind, aren't you?" she said. "You make me think of Bessie and her fellow, you do."
Lafe intimated that these individuals were unknown to him, but he fain would hear more.
"Why, this fellow of Bessie's--Bess worked next to me at the store--he wanted to reform her, he said--Bess was really too fly."
"Huh! Reform her!" said Miss Ferrier. "He only wanted to keep everybody else away."
"She's tough." Lafe assured himself of this again and again as he went home. "She's mighty tough; yes, sir. Else she couldn't talk that away. And them friends of hers. A city's a rotten place."
Of course, he, too, asked her to go riding. She thanked him, but refused.
"You can bank on it you will. But I won't go. No, thanks."