Brand Blotters

"Here's six bits on the counter under a seed catalogue. Did you leave it

here, daddy?"

Champ Lee, seated on the porch just outside the store door, took the pipe

from his mouth and answered: "Why no, honey, I don't reckon I did, not to my ricollection."

"That's queer. I know I didn't----"

Melissy broke her sentence sharply. There had come into her eyes a spark

of excitement, simultaneous with the brain-flash which told her who had

left the money. No doubt the quarter and the half dollar had been lying

there ever since the day last week when Morse had eaten at the Bar Double

G. She addressed an envelope, dropped the money in, sealed the flap, and

put the package beside a letter addressed to T. L. Morse.

Lee, full of an unhappy restlessness which he could not control, presently

got up and moved away to the stables. He was blaming himself bitterly for

the events of the past few days.

It was perhaps half an hour later that Melissy looked up to see the

sturdy figure of Morse in the doorway. During the past year he had filled

out, grown stronger and more rugged. His deep tan and heavy stride

pronounced him an outdoor man no less surely than the corduroy suit and

the high laced miners' boots.

He came forward to the postoffice window without any sign of recognition.

"Is Mr. Flatray still here?"

"No!" Without further explanation Melissy took from the box the two

letters addressed to Morse and handed them to him.

The girl observed the puzzled look that stole over his face at sight of

the silver in one envelope. A glance at the business address printed on

the upper left hand corner enlightened him. He laid the money down in the

stamp window.

"This isn't mine."

"You heard what my father said?"

"That applies to next time, not to this."

"I think it does apply to this time."

"I can't see how you're going to make me take it back. I'm an obstinate

man."

"Just as you like."

A sudden flush of anger swept her. She caught up the silver and flung it

through the open window into the dusty road.

His dark eyes met hers steadily and a dull color burned in his tanned

cheeks. Without a word he turned away, and instantly she regretted what

she had done. She had insulted him deliberately and put herself in the

wrong. At bottom she was a tender-hearted child, even though her father

and his friends had always spoiled her, and she could not but reproach

herself for the hurt look she had brought into his strong, sad face. He

was their enemy, of course, but even enemies have rights.