"You sha'n't do it!" he thundered. "I'd see you sewed up in a bag and dropped alongside first."
"But, Captain—"
"I won't have it! There's no use arguing. The idea of a girl of mine being carried away by a condescending, conceited jack-in-the-box—"
"He isn't! He's a darling!" Bobby flashed out hotly. "It's just that you don't understand him."
"What's more, I don't want to. I've had enough of him and his kind. If I'd known you were going to run amuck of a thing like this, I'd have let you bury yourself on the ranch for the rest of your life."
"Well," agreed Bobby, carefully studying her pink palm, and weighing her words as one who is quite open to reason, "I think I could have been happy with Hal; but you thought we were both too young and that I ought to see some other men first."
"Yes, but I didn't know you were going to get your head turned by the first fool that came lording it around with a valet and a title. The Fords may be plain people, but, by Jugs! they are the sort to tie up to in a squall."
Bobby smiled broadly under the brim of her hat.
"Then you advise me to take Hal?"
"I advise you to let me send this fellow Hascombe about his business. I'll make short work of him."