“Where is she?” Kent demanded.
Tony pointed to a pile of blankets upon which Molly lay sobbing. Kent knelt beside her, his bony fingers shaking as he caressed her hair.
“Come, Molly,” he begged, “we’ll git you home.”
Molly turned from him angrily.
“Don’t touch me,” she cried. “Your hands are as red as that beast’s there. I didn’t believe you could stoop to this.”
“Now, now,” Kent pleaded, “you’re all upset. I’ll——”
“You’ll do nothing for me!” Molly raised her hand and pointed at Gallup. “You two men may take me away from here; you may make me go to the ranch, and even marry me off; but you’ll do it by force! Father—I think I despise you. I see now why you got Madeiras to come back. It was nicely worked out. Well, I know where I stand. I’m no longer the fool.”
The girl was hysterical. The old man thought she would fall, so helplessly did she sway from side to side.
“My own father—my own flesh and blood,” she sobbed. “That you could do this to me.” And with a lunge she threw herself toward the edge of the dump over which Johnny had pitched.
Kent caught her and drew her back, a dead weight in his arms.