“Why, Rex!” she reproved with an injured air, “how can you say that? Why, I believe I loved you from the minute I saw you!”
“You didn’t have anything on me there!” he told her. “For I was a gone coon the first time I set eyes on you! But is it the same with pictures? A picture, now, has to be studied; it ain’t like the real article,” he apologized. “Anyway, if I hadn’t kept lookin’ at your picture, mebbe things would have been different. But I got it, an’ I looked at it a lot. That shows that it was all fixed for you an’ me.”
She looked mirthfully at him. “Was it all fixed for you to take the picture from Vickers, by force—as you told me you did?” she demanded.
He grinned brazenly. “I reckon that was part of the plan,” he contended. “Anyway, I got it. Vickers wouldn’t speak to me for a month, but I reckon I didn’t lose any sleep over that. What sleep I lost was lost lookin’ at the picture.” The confession did not embarrass him, for he continued quietly:
“An’ there’s Masten.” He watched the smile go out of her face with regret in his eyes. But he went on. “I intended to kill him, one night. But he had no gun, an’ I couldn’t. That would have spoiled the plan that’s fixed for all of us. I let him live, an’ the plan works out.” He took hold of the hand nearest him and pressed it tightly.
“Have you seen Hagar since?” he asked.
“No,” she told him, looking quickly at him, for she caught an odd note in his voice. “I just couldn’t bear to think of going back there.”
“Well,” he said, “Hagar’s happy. I was over there this mornin’. Masten’s there.” He felt her hand grip his suddenly, and he smiled. He had talked with Catherson; the nester had told him the story, but it had been agreed between them the real story was not to be told. “They’re married—Hagar an’ Masten. Masten come to Catherson’s shack the day after I—after I brought you home from there. An’ they rode over to Lazette an’ got hooked up. An’ Catherson had been lookin’ for Masten, figurin’ to kill him. I reckon it was planned for Masten to have a change of heart. Or mebbe it was gettin’ married changed him. For he’s a lot different, since. He’s quiet, an’ a heap considerate of other folks’ feelin’s. He’s got some money, an’ he’s goin’ to help Abe to fix up his place. He asked my pardon, for settin’ Pickett an’ Kelso on me. I shook his hand, Ruth, an’ wished him luck an’ happiness. Don’t you wish him the same, Ruth—both of them?”
“Yes,” she said earnestly; “I do!” And now she was looking at him with luminous eyes. “But it was very manly of you to forgive him so fully!”
“I reckon it wasn’t so awful manly,” he returned, blushing. “There wasn’t nothin’ else to do, I expect. Would you have me hold a grudge against him? An’ spoil everything—nature’s plan included? It was to happen that way, an’ I ain’t interferin’. Why, I reckon if I wasn’t to forgive him, there’d be another plan spoiled—yours an’ mine. An’ I’m sure helpin’ to work that out. I’ve thought of the first of the month,” he said, looking at her, expectantly, and speaking lowly. “The justice of the peace will be back in Lazette then.”