“Say, you’ve grown up in this country, even if you went away to be educated,” Robin said impatiently. “You know I can’t back up now. I couldn’t live in this country if I went side-steppin’ Mark Steele after this. You ought to know. Your dad has killed two men that I know of in his time.”
May had a pair of gloves in her hands. She twisted them, straightened them out, and crumpled them up again. Robin sat silent. The girl rose to her feet.
“I wish you luck,” she said in a wistful tone. “It seems to me utterly and terribly foolish for you to make a threat in a passion and then in cold blood live up to it. That’s carrying regard for your word too far.”
“I have a regard for my word,” Robin said stiffly. “I never broke it yet. I don’t say things I don’t mean.”
“Even in anger?”
“I never was so mad I’d say what I didn’t mean,” Robin protested. “That’s when a man does say what he means. I do anyway.”
“Then you really accused Mark of being a thief? It wasn’t just an angry taunt, an insult?” she challenged.
“You seem mighty curious about that,” Robin neither denied nor admitted.
“I am. Because if you know that to be true you would be a fool to risk your life in a clash with a man who is deadly with a gun, cold-blooded enough to shoot you and laugh about it. Let the law deal with him. There is law, and officers with authority to deal with a cattle thief. I wondered if there wasn’t more in this trouble than just—just——”
“Just a row over a girl,” Robin finished the sentence grimly. “Well you’re right. There is. She was only dragged in to make the play strong. I didn’t drag her in. Anyway, I don’t want to discuss it any more. It’s gone past the talkin’ stage.”