"Then listen to me first.... Your son Jack, to say the least, will ruin Collie. Do you see that?"
"By Gawd! I'm afraid so," groaned Belllounds, big in his humiliation. "But it's my one last bet, an' I'm goin' to play it."
"Do you know marryin' him will kill her?"
"What!... You're overdoin' your fears, Wade. Women don't die so easy."
"Some of them die, an' Collie's one that will, if she ever marries Jack."
"If!... Wal, she's goin' to."
"We don't agree," said Wade, curtly.
"Are you runnin' my family?"
"No. But I'm runnin' a large-sized if in this game. You'll admit that presently.... Belllounds, you make me mad. You don't meet me man to man. You're not the Bill Belllounds of old. Why, all over this state of Colorado you're known as the whitest of the white. Your name's a byword for all that's square an' big an' splendid. But you're so blinded by your worship of that wild boy that you're another man in all pertainin' to him. I don't want to harp on his short-comm's. I'm for the girl. She doesn't love him. She can't. She will only drag herself down an' die of a broken heart.... Now, I'm askin' you, before it's too late--give up this marriage."
"Wade! I've shot men for less than you've said!" thundered the rancher, beside himself with rage and shame.