"Aw, you don't understand!" he cried in an agony. "Didn't I warn him to keep away? Didn't I come to his office when you were right there and tell him to keep off my claims? What more could I do? But he went out there anyhow, and after that there was nothing to do but fight!"
"Well, I'm glad you're satisfied," she said after a silence. "Let's talk about something else."
"No, let's fight this out!" he answered insistently. "I want you to understand."
"I do," she replied. "I know just how you feel. But unfortunately I see it differently."
"Well, how do you see it? Just tell me, how you feel and see if I can't prove I'm right."
"No, it can't be proved. It goes beyond that. It goes back to the way we've been brought up. My father was a judge and he worshiped the law—you men out West are different."
"Yes, you bet we are. We don't worship any law unless, by grab, it's right. Why, there used to be a law, a hundred years ago, to hang a man if he stole. They used to hang them by the dozen, right over there in England, and put their heads on a spike. Could you worship that law? Why, no; you know better. But there's a hundred more laws on our statute books to-day that date clear back to that time, and lots of them are just as unreasonable. I believe in justice, and every man for his own rights, and some day I believe you'll agree with me."
"That isn't necessary," she said, smiling slightly, "we can proceed very nicely without."
"Aw, now, that's what I mean," he went on appealingly. "We can proceed, but I want more than that. I want you to like me—and approve of what I do—and love and marry me, too."
He poured it out hurriedly and reached blindly to catch her, but she rose up and slipped way.