“But, I don’t love her,” says he.
“No matter,” says I.
“It’s wicked,” says he.
“It’s right,” says I. “It will save her from a life of misery.”
“What’s the matter with you?” says he. “If it’s the proper thing to make love to a sweet young woman whom you don’t love, why don’t you do it?”
I told him that I was too busy—that I hadn’t any love that I was not using—that I had done my share in that line. Still he was serious; but finally promised to be a near relative, if he could not love her.
I think I shall open an agency for the protection of unprotected girls. I had luncheon at Upper Creede yesterday, and was shocked when Inez Boyd came in with fresh drug-store hair. Fitz, she is not so beautiful as Miss Parsons; but she is in greater danger, because she is not so strong, and has not had the advantage of early training as Miss Parsons has.
“Jimmie,” said I to the little devil this morning, “I want you to take a bundle of papers; go up the gulch until you come to the office of the Sure Thing Mining Company; go in and try to sell a paper. You may take an hour each day for this and loaf as long as you care to in the office, unless they kick you out.”
“Sure thing they’ll do that,” said Jimmie.