Gordon was staring moodily out of the window, one arm hanging idly over the back of his chair. He had taken up office room in an empty shop building across the street from the hotel.
“It’s so devilish, it’s weird,” agreed the ranchman. “But your part was great. You vanquished Jesse Black. That is more than we hoped for a week ago. Is it your fault or mine that those fool deputies acted like flies in tangle-foot and went spraddle-fingered when something was expected of them? We have nothing to do with a little thing like a broken windowpane.”
There was an ugly cut on his forehead caused by his violent contact with the sharp edge of the window casing. He was pale, but he had lost none of the old faith in himself or in his power to dominate affairs in the cattle country. Defeat was intolerable to him. He refused to bow his head to it. To-day’s check only made him the more determined, if that were possible, to free the land of its shame.
“I’ll pull myself together again, never fear,” said Gordon. “Just give me to-night. You see that’s not all. I’ve something else to think about, too, now that I have time. It takes a fellow’s nerve away to have everything that is worth while drop out at once. But I’ve rallied before. I know I’m beastly selfish not to talk to you to-night, but—”
“Dick,” interrupted Langford, bluntly, “did she turn you down?”
“I never asked her. She is going back—home—next week.”
“If you let her.”
“You don’t quite understand, Paul,” said Gordon, a little wearily. “She said she could never live in this country—never. She would die here. Could I ask her after that? Could I ask her anyway, and be a man? I know. She would just pine away.”
“Girls don’t pine—only in imagination. They are tougher than you give them credit for.”
“But somehow, Mary seems different,” said Gordon, thoughtfully. He surprised a flush in his friend’s cheek. “You deserve her, old man, you’ll be very happy. She is the right kind. I congratulate you with all my heart.”