To his considerable surprise, she avoided his gaze, fixed her regard on the tip of a neat little shoe she thrust out, and seemed embarrassed by his question.
“You needn’t tell unless you want to,” he said.
As if spurred by this she retorted: “There’s no reason why I shouldn’t tell anything I want to. The last time I met that man Ring I took a little dig at him, and suggested that perhaps he’d better favor you in the Weekly Star for a while, because I was getting more than my share of his attention. Sort of turn about is fair play. And he told me that if I were half as good a woman as you are a man, I’d not need to be ashamed of myself. Said the difference between us was that you at least knew what decency was and are now trying to be decent and—well—the inference was obvious. So I smacked his face for him and went on about my business; but it started me to thinking, got me curious, caused me to ask questions about you, and that’s the whole of it. I’ve said some mean things to your face, and it’s to your face that I make my apology.”
“That’s the way to do it, I reckon,” the miner agreed, with an unusual note of jubilance in his voice, as if at last he was really winning his way to public acceptance of his reformation. “And—you offered to shake hands a moment ago. I didn’t, because I never shake hands with an enemy; but now⸺ Do you mind? We’re friends, aren’t we?”
She took the hand that he suddenly held out to her, and something in its warmth of grasp seemed to soften the habitual defensive hardness of her eyes. It was quite like a reconciliation between two first-class fighters after a feud.
“Needless to say you are welcome in the Alamo whenever you care to come,” she said, moving away.
“I don’t drink,” he answered.
As if this was a reflection on her business, she turned suddenly and left with him a parting shot. “Probably it’s a good thing for the camp that you don’t!”
He believed he caught the faint notes of mocking laughter as she walked away, and wondered what she meant by that. He stood watching her for a moment and thought:
“She walks like Cathcart used to, but she does talk like Riggs. I wish I knew which she is. Humph!”