"Lord pity us—don't he?"
"Y-e-s, but that's different," she replied, smiling brightly.
Johnny looked around the room, his eyes finally resting on his hat.
"Yes, I see it's different. Greener can kill, an' blink! I can't. If he kills a man he's a hero; I 'm a murderer. I kinda reckon he 's got th' trail. But I love you, an' you 've got to pick my trail—does it lead up or down?"
"Johnny Nelson! What are you saying?" she demanded, arising.
"Something turrible, mebby. I don't know; an' I don't care. It's true—so there you are. Norah, can't you see I do?" he pleaded, holding out his hands. "Won't you marry me?"
She looked down, her cheeks the color of fire, and Johnny continued hurriedly: "I 've loved you a whole month! When I 'm ridin' around I sorta' see you, an' hear you. Why, I talk to you lots when I 'm alone. I 've saved up some money, an' I had to work hard to save it, too. I 've got some cows runnin' with our'n—in a little while I 'll have a ranch of my own. Buck 'll let me use th' east part of th' ranch, an' there 's a hill over there that 'd look fine with a house on it. I can't wait no longer, Norah, I 've got to know. Will you let me put this on yore finger?" He swiftly bent the pin into a ring and held it out eagerly: "Can I?"
She pushed him away and yielded to a sudden pricking of her conscience, speaking swiftly, as if forcing herself to do a disagreeable duty, and hating herself at the moment. "Johnny, I 've been a—a flirt! When I saw you were beginning to care too much for me I should have stopped it; but I did n't. I amused myself—but I want you to believe one thing, to give me a little credit for just one thing; I never thought what it might mean to you. It was carelessness with me. But I was flirting, just the same—and it hurts to admit it. I 'm not good enough for you, Johnny Nelson; it's hard to say, but it's true. Can you, will you forgive me?"
He choked and stepped forward holding out his hands imploringly, but she eluded him. When he saw the shame in her face, the tears in her eyes, he stopped and laughed gently: "But we can begin right, now, can't we? I don't care, not if you 'll let me see you same as ever. You might get to care for me. And, anyhow, it ain't yore fault. I reckon it's me that's to blame."
At that moment he was nearer to victory than he had ever been; but he did not realize it and opportunity died when he failed to press his advantage.