"That," said Tom Osby, "sounds like the old man had got the potato loose."
"I'm ashamed of him," declared Constance.
"Natural," said Tom; "but why special?"
"He oughtn't to touch that whiskey. I hate it."
"So do I, when it ain't good. That in the can is good. It's only fair your dad should break even for some of the whiskey he give the Lone Star. They didn't have a drop when I got in. Now, that's another reason why we ought to have a railroad at Heart's Desire. It might prevent a awful stringency, sometime. There's Dick McGinnis, why, he nearly—"
"But it's not coming. It will not be built. They wouldn't let us in. We couldn't get the right of way."
"Now listen at you! You mean your daddy couldn't, nor his lawyer couldn't. Of course not. But you haven't tried it your own self yet."
"How could I?"
"Well, you'd a heap more sense than to size up things the way your pa did. The boys told me all about what happened. A man out here don't holler if you beat him fair, but if you stack the cards on him, that's different. Dan Anderson done just right."
"He broke up all our plans," Constance retorted hotly; and at once flushed at her own speech.