“She’s making some broth for my supper.”
“That’s right, that’s right––she’ll care for you, lad; I’ll leave her here with Rabbit to care for you. Sure. She was for you, all along. I couldn’t see it.”
“Well, you’ve got it right this time,” Mackenzie said.
Tim beamed. He rubbed his hands, great satisfaction in his face.
“I’ll find somebody else for my Mary––we’ll consider her no more,” he said. “Let you go on with Joan in the bargain in place of Mary, and give me three years for her, and the day you marry her I’ll drive over to you a thousand sheep.”
“Nothing doing,” said Mackenzie.
“Two years, we’ll say––two instead of three, John. Joan will be her own man in two years; she’ll be twenty-one. And the day you marry her I’ll make it fifteen hundred sheep.”
“She’s her own man now under the laws of this state, and I’m taking her without a single head of sheep. You can keep them all––Joan is enough for me.”
Tim was a greatly injured man. His face lengthened two inches, a look of reproach came into his eyes; he seemed on the point of dissolving in tears.
“You’re not goin’ to quit me and take away my girl, the best one of my flock, my ewe lamb, my Joan? I didn’t think you’d turn on me like that, lad; I didn’t think you had it in your heart!”