“Perhaps; but he’s too old, Jimmy. Dad likes him.”
“Do you like him, Dawn?”
“He’s a nice man, but he is so homely, Jimmy—and old. No, I never could marry him. He looks funny.”
Jimmy was silent for several moments. A breeze rattled the dry leaves of the cottonwoods.
“Dawn, why were you anxious to meet your father?”
“It was Peter,” she said anxiously. “He came home awhile ago. He had been fighting, Jimmy. His lips are bleeding and he looks awful. He wouldn’t tell me what had happened, and I was afraid. I wanted to have Dad go to town and find out. Oh, I hope it isn’t anything serious. You know how they feel about—half-breeds.”
Jimmy laughed softly.
“Don’t worry, Dawn. I can tell you what happened.”
Without giving himself any credit, he told her about the poker game and about the stolen king of hearts.
“Oh, Jimmy, I’m glad you took his gun!” she exclaimed. “It would go hard with him if he used that gun. I’m glad that’s all there is to it.”