"Well, just the same, I'm goin' to issue a writ of replevin, an' try for to git mine back," laughed Slim.
He was about to slip his arm about her waist when she turned and faced him. The action so disconcerted him that he jumped backward, as if the girl was about to attack him.
"Where is it?" asked Polly.
Slim, deeply in earnest, replied: "You know it's hid. You know just as well as I kin tell you."
Polly became remorseful. She realized how much Slim was suffering, and she was sorry that her answer to him would be a disappointment.
"Please don't say any more, Slim,"—as she stepped away from him. Slim followed her up, and, speaking over her shoulder, said: "I can't help it. You've got my feelin's stampeded now, an' they sure has to run. I've had an itchin' in my heart for you ever since I first knowed you. You come from Kentucky—well, I was kinder borned up that way myself—in Boone County, an' that sorter makes—well, if it did, what I want to know is—"
Slim hesitated, and nervously hauled at his chaps.
"Will you be my—"
Frightened at his boldness, he clapped his hand over his mouth.
"Can I be your—" he began again.