“Reckon that ain't so, Nell. Any woman I keep track of has reason to think. An' you know it.”
“Then you followed me—out here?” demanded Helen, and her voice, despite her control, quivered with anger.
“I sure did,” he replied, and there was as much thought of himself in the act as there was of her.
“Why? Why? It's useless—hopeless.”
“I swore I'd have you, or nobody else would,” he replied, and here, in the passion of his voice there sounded egotism rather than hunger for a woman's love. “But I reckon I'd have struck West anyhow, sooner or later.”
“You're not going to—all the way—to Pine?” faltered Helen, momentarily weakening.
“Nell, I'll camp on your trail from now on,” he declared.
Then Bo sat bolt-upright, with pale face and flashing eyes.
“Harve Riggs, you leave Nell alone,” she burst out, in ringing, brave young voice. “I'll tell you what—I'll bet—if you follow her and nag her any more, my uncle Al or some cowboy will run you out of the country.”
“Hello, Pepper!” replied Riggs, coolly. “I see your manners haven't improved an' you're still wild about cowboys.”