Duncan's first impulse, begotten by the sudden anger that blazed within him, was to resent most bitterly the threat thus made against him. But, behind his anger, he was conscious of a certain feeling of respect and admiration for this frank-faced, keen-eyed young Montana ranchman. He saw plainly that Morton was in deadly earnest in what he had said; but he realized, also, that Morton's resentment, as well as the threat he had made, was due, not to any personal feeling harbored against the man he now faced, but was entirely the result of the sense of chivalry which the Western cowboy inevitably feels for every woman. Duncan understood, thoroughly, that Morton's sole desire was to announce himself as prepared to protect, to the last ditch, the young woman with whom he had fallen so desperately in love; and for this Duncan respected and esteemed the man.
In this instance, Duncan was a good reader of character, and, before venturing to reply to the last remark of Morton's, he compelled himself to silence; he tried to put himself in this young man's place, wondering the while if under like circumstances he would have had the courage to do as Morton had done.
"Sit down again, Mr. Morton," he said, presently, waving his hand toward the chair the ranchman had previously occupied.
"No, sir; not until you have answered me."
Duncan smiled, now. He had entirely regained his composure, and was thoroughly master of his own ugly temper, and of the situation, also, as he believed.
"Mr. Morton," he said, "when you entered this room, I did you the honor to listen to your unprecedented statement, without interruption. I now ask you to treat me as fairly as I treated you. Be seated, Mr. Morton, and hear what I have to say."
The ranchman flushed hotly, at once realizing that this young patrician of the East, had, for the moment got the better of him. He resumed his seat upon the chair, and absent-mindedly withdrew from one of his pockets a book of cigarette-papers and a tobacco-pouch.
"Morton," said Duncan, "I am going to speak to you as man to man; just as I think you would like to have me do. I am going to meet you on your own ground, that of perfect frankness; for I do you the honor to believe that you are entirely sincere in your attitude, in your conduct, and in what you have said to me."
"You're sure right about that, Mr. Duncan. Whatever may be said about Dick Morton, there is nobody--at least nobody that's now alive--who has ever cast any doubts upon my sincerity, or my willingness to back up whatever I may have to say."