The big man looked at her with sudden intensity. "If you'll take me—I'll go." There was something in his voice and eyes that startled the girl. She drew back a little, but smiled bravely, carrying out the jest.
"I'll call you on that. Unless you take water, you go to church to-morrow."
The big man shoved his companion away and, leaning across the counter, said, in a low and deeply significant tone:
"There ain't a thing in this world that you can't do with Mart Haney—not a thing. That's what I came down here to tell you—you can boss my ranch any day."
The girl was visibly alarmed, but as she still stood fascinated by his eyes and voice, struggling to recover her serenity, another group of diners came noisily past, and the big man, with a parting look, went out and took a seat on one of the chairs which stood in a row upon the walk. The hand which held the cigar visibly trembled, and his companion said:
"Be careful, Mart—"
Haney silenced him with a look. "You're on the outside here, partner."
"I didn't mean to butt in—"
"I understand, but this is a matter between that little girl and me," replied the big man in a tone that, while friendly, ended all further remark on the part of his companion, who rose, after a little pause, and walked away.
Haney remained seated, buried in thought, amazed at the fever which his encounter with the girl had put into his blood.