“Yes,”—Harvey spoke slowly,—“she is. A very pretty girl. Her father seems to be a gentleman.”
“Oh, Porter's all right. He's doing what 'most any man in his place would do. It's business. There's nothing personal in it.”
“I suppose not,” Harvey replied. “It's still a little odd to me. I'm afraid I'd want to break his head.”
Jim laughed.
“You'll get over that. I reckon you haven't got anything against his daughter.”
“Perhaps not,” said Harvey; “but that's different.”
“Oh, is it?”
Harvey sat for a moment without reply, then he tossed his half-smoked cigar into the ashtray and rose.
“Don't go, West. I shall be up for a long while.”
“I'm tired,” Harvey replied. “I need sleep. Good night.”