“Pard, you’re drunk shore!” ejaculated Larry, as he towered over them and gave his belt a hitch. The cowboy sensed events.
“I’ve annoyed you more than once,” said Neale. “This’s the last.... So tell me the truth.... Could _I_ take you away from this life?”
“I--I don’t know. But somehow.... I’d hold it--as worthy--to save a girl like you--ANY girl--from hell.”
“But--how?” she faltered. The bitterness, the irony, the wrong done by her life, was not manifest now.
“You refused my plan with Larry.... Come, let me find a home for you--with good people.”
“My God--he’s not in earnest!” gasped the girl to her women friends.
Then the tension of the girl relaxed. Her face showed a rebirth of soul.
“I can’t accept,” she replied. If she thanked him it was with a look. Assuredly her eyes had never before held that gaze for Neale. Then she left the room, and presently Stanton’s companion followed her. But Beauty Stanton remained. She appeared amazed, even dismayed.
Larry lighted his cigarette. “Shore I’d call thet a square kid,” he said. “Neale, if you get any drunker you’ll lose all thet money.”
“I’ll lose it anyhow,” replied Neale, absent-mindedly.
At that Neale generously and still absent-mindedly delivered to Larry a handful of gold and notes that he did not count.
“Hell! I ain’t no bank,” protested the cowboy.
Hough and Ancliffe joined them and with amusement watched Larry try to find pockets enough for his small fortune.
“Easy come, easy go in Benton,” said the gambler, with a smile. Then his glance, alighting upon the quiet Stanton, grew a little puzzled. “Beauty, what ails you?” he asked.
She was pale and her expressive eyes were fixed upon Neale. Hough’s words startled her.
“What ails me?... Place, I’ve had a forgetful moment--a happy one--and I’m deathly sick!”
Ancliffe stared in surprise. He took her literally.
Beauty Stanton looked at Neale again. “Will you come to see me?” she asked, with sweet directness.
“Thank you--no,” replied Neale. He was annoyed. She had asked him that before, and he had coldly but courteously repelled what he thought were her advances. This time he was scarcely courteous.
The woman flushed. She appeared about to make a quick and passionate reply, in anger and wounded pride, but she controlled the impulse. She left the room with Ancliffe.