Brand Blotters

"What did I do?"

"You know what you did," she answered wearily. "You broke for the brush

where your horse was and galloped away."

"Got a right good look at me, did you?"

"Not at your face. But I knew. You were wearing this blue silk

handkerchief." Her finger indicated the one bound around her ankle.

"So on that evidence you decide I'm a rustler, and you've only known me

thirteen years. You're a good friend, 'Lissie."

Her eyes blazed on him like live coals. "Have you forgotten the calf you

left with your brand on it?"

She had startled him at last. "With my brand on it?" he repeated, his

voice dangerously low and soft.

"You know as well as I do. You had got the F just about finished when I

called. You dropped the running iron and ran."

"Dropped it and ran, did I? And what did you do?"

"I reheated the iron and blurred the brand so that nobody could tell what

it had been."

He laughed harshly without mirth. "I see. I'm a waddy and a thief, but

you're going to protect me for old times' sake. That's the play, is it? I

ought to be much obliged to you and promise to reform, I reckon."

His bitterness stung. She felt a tightening of the throat. "All I ask is

that you go away and never come back to me," she cried with a sob.

"Don't worry about that. I ain't likely to come back to a girl that thinks

I'm the lowest thing that walks. You're not through with me a bit more

than I am with you," he answered harshly.

Her little hand beat upon the rock in her distress. "I never would have

believed it. Nobody could have made me believe it. I--I--why, I trusted

you like my own father," she lamented. "To think that you would take that

way to stock your ranch--and with the cattle of my father, too."

His face was hard as chiseled granite. "Distrust all your friends. That's

the best way."

"You haven't even denied it--not that it would do any good," she said

miserably.

There was a sound of hard, grim laughter in his throat. "No, and I ain't

going to deny it. Are you ready to go yet?"

His repulse of her little tentative advance was like a blow on the face to

her.

She made a movement to rise. While she was still on her knees he stooped,

put his arms around her, and took her into them. Before she could utter

her protest he had started down the trail toward the house.