"Ahuh! I reckon you have. But not men like me.... I tell you, straight to your face, it's a fool deal you're workin'--a damn selfish one--a dirty job, to put on an innocent, sweet girl--an' as sure as you stand there, if you do it, you'll ruin four lives!"
"Four!" exclaimed Belllounds. But any word would have expressed his humiliation.
"I should have said three, leavin' Jack out. I meant Collie's an' yours an' Wils Moore's."
"Moore's is about ruined already, I've a hunch."
"You can get hunches you never dreamed of, Belllounds, old as you are. An' I'll give you one presently.... But we drift off. Can't you keep cool?"
"Cool! With you rantin' hell-bent for election? Haw! Raw!... Wade, you're locoed. You always struck me queer.... An' if you'll excuse me, I'm gettin' tired of this talk. We're as far apart as the poles. An' to save what good feelin's we both have, let's quit."
"You don't love Collie, then?" queried Wade, imperturbably.
"Yes, I do. That's a fool idee of yours. It puts me out of patience."
"Belllounds, you're not her real father."
The rancher gave a start, and he stared as he had stared before, fixedly and perplexedly at Wade.