"Don't let Matthews kill you."
Lounsbury laid down his gun. When he straightened, he stepped to her side. "Me?" he said. "Well, I'm a match for him. You ain't. But what else?"
She moved aside, averting her face.
"There is something, Miss Dallas?"
"Y-e-e-s."
He saw she was disconcerted, and strove to put her at ease. "Do you know," he said, "you're so tall in that coat, you almost look like a 'heap big chief.'"
She did not hear him. She was not listening. The wished-for opportunity was come. She was trying desperately to rally a speech. "You—you ain't been 'round of late," she began at last. "I hope——" But she could not finish,
"No," he said slowly. He rammed his hands into his trouser pockets. "I haven't been around lately. But—I didn't think you'd notice it." He darted a glance at her.
"Was it dad?" she asked. "Did you think——"
"Yes, it was your father. I thought he went out of his way to be—well, kinda short, you know. I was only trying t' be decent."