“I kain’t quite stomach thet-thar yarn o’ Seth Jones’s,” he said. “As I remember, Dan Hodges threw me—hard!” He grinned wryly at the recollection. “I don’t see how I could have thrown him off the Slide.”
“But of course you did!” Plutina asserted, with 274 great spirit. “Pooh! Ye could lick Dan Hodges any day in the week. An’ Seth saw ye—that settles hit!”
“I suppose so,” Zeke conceded. “But Dan Hodges was a powerful fighter. After all, I didn’t do anything much for ye, Tiny,” he added, with regret in his voice.
The girl was all indignation.
“Why, Zeke!” she cried. “The idea! Ye did hit all. Ye banged the love o’ ye into thet-thar dawg, what hung on to me an’ brung up the fairy cross fer a message.” Chubbie, as if understanding, leaped to lick her hand. “An’ ye give me the cross, Zeke. Mebby, thet’s what saved me, all the time—thar on the precipice, an’—an’ back thar—in the cave—with him. An’ then ye threw Dan Hodges right offen the mounting. Seth Jones seen ye do hit!”
It seemed to Zeke that he must perforce accept the heroism thrust upon him, though a doubt still lingered. Still, his memory of the fight was confused. Perhaps, after all, he had—.
Zeke broke off, and drew the girl close. Their lips met gently, tenderly, with the clinging of passion. What mattered the history of evil days? They were past. Before them lay the future, radiant with rosy promise. In this blessed present, they were together. Love thrilled exquisitely on their 275 lips; more exquisitely in their souls. That love was, and it would remain, a noble and precious thing, great and very beautiful, as mighty and firm as the mountain looming yonder in immutable serenity and strength, as loyal, as enduring.... They walked on together, infinitely content.
