In June, Cherokee Bob, accompanied by Mayfield and Cynthia, left Lewiston for Florence. Soon after their arrival the jealousy of Mayfield was aroused by the particular attentions of Bob to his mistress. On his part Bob made no concealment of his attachment for the woman, and when charged with harboring an intention of appropriating her affections, boldly acknowledged the soft impeachment. Cynthia possessed many charms of person, and considerable intelligence. She had, moreover, an eye to the main chance, and was ready to bestow her favors where they would command the most money. Bob was richer than Mayfield, and this fact won for him many encouraging smiles from the fair object of his pursuit. Mayfield’s jealousy flamed into anger, and he resolved to bring matters to a crisis, which should either secure his undisturbed possession of the woman, or transfer her to the sole care of his rival. He had confidence enough in Cynthia to believe that when required to choose between him and Cherokee Bob, her good taste, if nothing else, would give him the preference. He had not calculated on the strength of her cupidity. Confronting Bob in her presence, he said, as he laid his hand on the butt of his revolver,
“Bob, you know me.”
“Yes,” replied Bob with a similar gesture, “and Bill, you know me.”
“Well, now, Bob, the question is whether we shall make fools of ourselves or not.”
“Just as you say, Bill. I’m al’ys ready for anything that turns up.”
“Bob, if that woman loves you more than me,” said Mayfield, “take her. I don’t want her. But if she thinks the most of me, no person ought to come between us. I call that on the square.”
“Well, I do think considerable of Cynthia, and you are not married to her, you know,” replied Bob.
“That makes no difference. If she loves me, and wishes to live with me, no one shall interfere to prevent it.”
“Well, what do you propose to do about it?” asked Bob, after a brief pause.
“Let the woman decide for herself,” replied Mayfield. “What say you, Cynthia? Is it Bob or me?”