"What's the matter?" said the surprised Jim. "Don't my wife an'

Dorothy treat yuh right?"

"Sh.o.r.e they do, but I don't want to bother 'em no more. I'll be better off where I can cuss when I feel like it."

"Mis' Burr won't like it none, yore goin' off thisaway."

"I can't help that--I want to go."

"An' my wife won't like it, neither. Lordy, Tom, yuh don't know my wife. She'd hit the ceilin' if I was to tote yuh down to the hotel."

"Say," exclaimed Loudon, "can't a married man do nothin' without askin'

his wife?"

"Not if he knows what's healthy," replied Jim Mace, warmly. "I tell yuh, Tom, yuh'll jump through a hoop if yore wife says so. Oh, yuh can laugh all yo're a mind to. Wait till yo're married, an' yuh'll see what I mean."

"I'll wait, yuh can gamble on that. Will yuh help me or do I have to walk there on my hands?"

"I won't help yuh a step. Yuh don't know what yo're askin', Tom.

Honest, I'm sorry, but I wouldn't dare help yuh without Lil said I could. Fix it up with her an' I will."

When Jim had gone Loudon swore soulfully, and thought with amazement of the manner in which Jim was under his wife's thumb. If that was the effect of marriage upon a man he wanted none of it. He had no desire to be tied to any one's ap.r.o.n-strings. He wished to be able to call his soul his own. Marriage--bah!

"I want my clothes," he announced to Mrs. Mace at noon.

"Oh, yuh do, do yuh?" cried the lady. "Well, yuh can just want, so yuh can! Yuh won't get 'em, an' that's flat! An' Jim Mace nor n.o.body else ain't goin' to help yuh down to that hotel. Yo're a-goin' to stick right here. Jim told me yuh wanted to go, an' what I told him was a-plenty. Here yuh stay till yuh go back to the ranch."

"But I want to get up. I'm gettin' plumb weary o' stayin' in bed."

"It won't hurt yuh a bit. You'll have lots o' time to think over yore sins."

"I'll get up anyhow."

"You just try it! I'd sh.o.r.e admire to see yuh try it! You ain't goin'

to play any fool tricks with that ankle if I have to get Jim an' a few o' the boys to hogtie yuh. Tell yuh what I will do. To-morrow, if you'll give me yore word not to leave the house till Mis' Burr or I say you can, I'll give yuh yore clothes an' you can sit in the kitchen."

"I suppose I'll have to," grumbled Loudon.

"You sh.o.r.e will if yuh want to get up," stated the uncompromising lady.

"All right. I give yuh my word. Lemme get up now. The ankle feels fine."

"To-morrow, to-morrow--not one second sooner."

CHAPTER XVII

MRS. BURR RELIEVES HER MIND

Loudon, sitting comfortably in a big chair, his lame ankle supported on an upturned cracker-box, gazed at the world without through the frame of the kitchen doorway. Leaving his bed had raised his spirits appreciably. He rolled and smoked cigarettes and practised the road-agent's spin in pleasant antic.i.p.ation of the day when he would ride away on his occasions.

He wondered what luck Telescope and the boys were having. Since Swing Tunstall's visit no news had come from the Flying M. Humanly, if selfishly, he hoped that the trailing would meet with no success till he was able to take a hand. His altruism was not proof against his exceedingly lively desire to share in the downfall of the 88 outfit.

He essayed to draw Mrs. Mace and Dorothy into conversation, but both ladies were grumpy, and he gave it up in disgust. He found himself listening for Kate's footstep. Awkward as their meeting undoubtedly would be, his dread of it was wearing off.

But Kate Saltoun did not appear. Loudon was too stubborn to make inquiries, and Mrs. Mace and Dorothy vouchsafed no information. In fact, save to squabble with him, they rarely opened their mouths in his presence.

A week later Loudon, a home-made crutch under his armpit, was able to hobble about a little. Within two weeks he discarded the crutch and, having obtained permission from Mrs. Mace, limped to the corral and overhauled his saddle. That afternoon Mrs. Burr returned. Loudon saw her first and crab-footed to the other side of the corral. The precise nature of his sin was not clear to him, but Dorothy's words had been disquieting. And now "mother" was home.

Like a disobedient small boy Loudon wished to put off the interview as long as possible. But there was no escape for him. Mrs. Burr marched out to the corral and cornered him.

"How's Scotty?" inquired Loudon, affecting an ease of manner he was far from feeling.

"Scotty's doin' very well," said Mrs. Burr, eying him grimly. "He don't need me no more. That's why I'm here. Young man, I ain't pleased with yuh. I ain't a bit pleased with yuh."

"Why, ma'am, I dunno what yuh mean."

"Yuh will before I'm through. Gimme that saddle-blanket to set on.

There! Now, Mister Man, I'm goin' to talk to yuh like I was yore mother, an' I expect yuh to take it that way."

"Sh.o.r.e, ma'am, fly at it. I'm a-listenin'."

"Do yuh remember a certain evenin' down at the Bar S when yuh'd just rid in from Farewell with the mail an' some ribbon for Kate Saltoun?"

Loudon nodded.

"Well, Kate asked yuh to come out on the porch, an' yuh didn't come.

Yes, Sam Blakely was there. Yore not comin' at her invite riled Kate.

She allowed yuh didn't give a hoot for her, an' when Blakely proposed she took him. She was hoppin' mad with you, an' she was bound to teach yuh a lesson.

"No, don't interrupt. Wait till I'm through, an' yuh can talk all yo're a mind to. Before that evenin' it'd been nip an' tuck between you an' Sam Blakely. An' you was slow. My fathers! you was slow about speakin' yore little piece! Tom, a girl don't like for a man to keep his mouth shut. If he loves her, let him say so. An' you didn't say so.

"Then again, Kate was flattered by Blakely's attention. What girl wouldn't be? Tom, yuh've got to remember a girl's mind ain't built like a man's. She don't reason the same way. She can't. Then, again, every girl is a coquette. Take the homeliest slabsided critter in creation, an' at heart she's just as much of a coquette as a she-angel with a pretty figger. They can't help it. It's born in 'em like their teeth are.

"An' you men don't take that into account. You think the girl you admire ain't got no right to look at n.o.body but you, an' that she's got to be all ready to fall into yore arms when you say the word. An' if she don't do these things yuh rise up in the air like a mean pony an'

go cavortin' off sayin', 'Drat the women!' I know yuh. Yo're all alike."

"But, ma'am, I----"

"No time for 'I's' now. Like I says before, yuh can talk later. Well, here's Kate Saltoun--pretty as all git-out, an' a.s.sayin' twelve ounces o' real woman to the pound, troy. Naturally, like I says, she's a coquette an' don't know her own mind about the boys. None of 'em don't. I didn't. Well, times Kate knows she loves you, an' times she thinks she loves Blakely."

"How did she know I loved her? I hadn't said a word about it."

"My fathers! don't yuh s'pose a woman knows when a man loves her? He doesn't have to tell her. She knows. Well, as I was sayin', she's a-waverin' this way an' that, an' then along comes that evenin' you don't go out on the porch, an' she kind o' guesses she loves Blakely an' she takes that party. Mind yuh, she thought she loves him. Kate's honest. She couldn't lie to herself."

"She did when she said I drawed first," said Loudon in a low voice. "I can't get over that, somehow."