"I understand," the cowman said, with a nod. A moment of silence followed.
"There's something else, I'm sorry about," Lytton continued. "The other day I tried to get nasty about a girl, the girl Nora at the Manzanita House, didn't I?"
"Oh, you didn't know what you said."
"Well, if I didn't, that's no excuse." He was growing clearer, obtaining a better poise, assuming a more decided personality. "I apologize to you for what I said, and, if you think best, I'll go see her and apologize for the advances I made to her."
"No, no,"—with a quick gesture. "That wouldn't do any good; she'll never know."
"As you say, then. I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry; that's all. I know how a fellow feels when his girl's name is dragged into a brawl that way. I've noticed you sort of dolling up lately when you've started for town,"—with a faint twinkle in his eyes and a smile that approximated good nature. "I know how it is with you fellows who still have the woman bug,"—a hint of bitterness. "I know how touchy you'll all get. You ... you seem to be rather interested in that Nora girl."
Bayard made no answer. He was uneasy, apprehensive.
"I've heard 'em talk about it in town. Funny that she's the only woman you've fallen for, Bayard. They tell me you won't look at another, that you brought her to Yavapai yourself several years ago. You're so particular that you have to import one; is that it?"
He laughed aloud and a hint of nastiness was again in the tone. The other man did not answer with more than a quickly passing smile.
"Well, you fellows have all got to have your whirl at it, I suppose," Lytton went on, the good nature entirely gone. "You'll never learn except from your own experience. Rush around with the girls, have a gay time; then, it's some one girl, next, it's marriage and she's got you,"—holding up his gripped fist for emphasis. "She's got you hard and fast!"