“I saw someone standing out there against the snow. I fired. I could have sworn it was a man.”
The Girl winced. But as she stood watching him calmly remove his coat and shake it with the air of one determined to make himself at home, she cried out tauntingly:
“Why do you stop? Why don’t you go on—finish your search—only don’t ever speak to me again.”
At that, Rance became conciliatory.
“Say, Min, I don’t want to quarrel with you.”
Turning her back on him the Girl moved over to the bureau where she snapped out over her shoulder:
“Go on with your search, then p’r’aps you’ll leave a lady to herself to go to bed.”
The Sheriff followed her up with the declaration: “I’m plumb crazy about you, Min.”
The Girl shrugged her shoulder.
“I could have sworn I saw—I—Oh, you know it’s just you for me—just you, and curse the man you like better. I—I—even yet I can’t get over the queer look in your face when I told you who that man really was.” He stopped and flung his overcoat down on the floor, and fixing her with a look he demanded: “You don’t love him, do you?”