"Dad's funny," she said reflectively. "Whenever we get to a chuck-hole, where all of us ought to pull t'gether, he goes slack on the tugs. He's like Ben that way. So I have t' go up to him, stroke his mane, fix his curb, and let some cool air under his collar. After while, he gives a _haw-hee-haw_ and goes on."
Lounsbury did not laugh. "He balked when it came to me," he said soberly. "And it hurt. Afterward--I kinda got it into my head that none of you wanted me."
She looked straight at him. "But one did--_one did_," she whispered, choking.
He pulled his hands free of his pockets. "One--one," he said huskily. "Who?"
And now everything was clear to her. She knew just what to say. She had no feelings of self; the duty was not hateful, nor embarrassing. "Who?" she repeated. "Don't you know, Mr. Lounsbury? Why, Marylyn."
"Marylyn," he echoed as if in a puzzle; "Marylyn. You're joking!"
She caught a shade of reproach in that, and misunderstood it. "I reckon you won't like her so well now," she said.
"Like her so well? I don't know what you mean."
Still he was puzzled. "I _supposed_ she didn't hate me."
There was no mistaking her. Utterly dumfounded, he could not trust an immediate answer. "I see, I see," he said finally.
He drew a deep breath. His eyes were on her face, trying to read it in the dimness. Then, "I am not a cub boy, Miss Dallas."
"You won't stay away," she persisted. "You'll come."
"If I'm judging right, I mustn't. I'm--I'm sorry."
He strode back and forth a few times. "Why--why, Miss Dallas, you must understand that a man can't--when a girl----Well, it'd be low for me to talk about it, that's all--out and out _low_."
Something stirred her powerfully then--something she combated, and concealed from him by a touch of apparent anger. "There's nothing low about it," she said. "A man ought to be proud. Oh," as he was about to reply, "you don't know how she's felt. She's been sick over it, white and sad, and at night she'd cry."
"That day you drove Matthews away. She told me."
He walked about again. "I can't see why she does," he mused pathetically. "I can't remember doing anything."
"But you've been so good to us--even after the way dad acted--guarded out here, and sent that land-office man down from Bismarck----"