“Mebbe not—” Jack shook his head wearily—“but they hold it, Molly.”
“Well,” she laughed shortly, scornfully, “you are not a cattleman. You’ve got nothing to fight for.”
“No-o-o?”
She sprang to her feet, her eyes flashing.
“Well, have you?” she demanded. “Your own people have turned you down. Your own father cursed you for marrying a daughter of Eph King. You wasn’t good enough to even work for him; so he gave you this!” She flung out her arms in a gesture of contempt. “Is this worth fighting for?”
Jack Hartwell bit his lip for a moment and the ghost of a smile passed his thin lips.
“It ain’t worth much, is it, Molly? Still, it was worth so much that——”
“That they killed the man who took possession of it,” she finished angrily.
“Yeah, they killed him, Molly. Morgan was a fool. He had a chance to go away, but he would rather fight it out.”
“He was a friend of my father.”