"No, I ain't. Honest I ain't. I'm sure shy as a teeny li'l' rabbit with other girls."
"What makes you go to say them things then?"
"You do. You make me brighten up a heap. And I'd kind of like to learn to talk easy like the other boys."
"You've got 'em backed into the cactus right now," said Grace, once more overcome.
The two were occupying one of the wooden benches ranged against the walls. Johnson was obliged to give her up at this point to a man from New Mexico. His visage was expressionless as he watched her depart and then he crossed to the door to institute inquiries as to how this interloper had contrived to get in.
"Let's run him off," said Jim. "That big Hick ought to be in a cotton-patch, anyhow."
"No-oo. She'd think I was jealous. And I'm not caring; not me. She can blister her feet for all of me, and he's a sure a-helping her. Watch him tromp on her toes. Say, Buf'lo, that's the third time she's danced with that there feller."
"What're you getting all swelled up about, Lafe?" Haverty asked, overhearing. "Quit your roaring. You mad just because Steve done took your girl?"
"Mad, hell!" said Johnson. "Who is this here Steve, Haverty?"
"He done drifted in about a month ago. Works for the Tumbling K. You've heard of him, Lafe? Shore you have. Goes by the name of Moffatt. He done killed Hi Waggoner and Balaam Halsell and—"