MULLENDORE WINS
there was more than satisfaction in his voice when he said :
"That's somethin' like it — somethin' — not quite I It's sweeter nor music to hear you beg. But, damn you, you ain't humble enough yet! "
" What do you want me to do? " she cried. " I'll— • I'll get down on my knees, if only you'll tell me what I want to know! "
" That's it I " in shrill excitement. " Get down on your knees. I ain't forgot that you called me a * nigger ' once, and hit me with a quirt. It'll kinda wipe it out to see you crawlin' to Pete, that you always treated like dirt. Git down on your knees and beg, if you want me to talk! "
She sank to the floor of the wagon without a word.
He looked at her queerly as she knelt. There was intense gratification in his voice, " You do want to know, when you'll swaller that."
" Yes, Pete," humbly, " I do."
His thin hands lay inert upon the soogan. His head turned weakly while he kept his eyes upon her as though enjoying the situation to the utmost. There was a silence in which he seemed both to be gathering strength and con- sidering how to begin.
"He's the kind of a feller — your Old Man — that don't have to holler his head off to git himself heard. They'd listen in any man's country when he talks. He don't talk much, but what he says goes — the kind that can always finish what he starts.
" He's six feet, and there wasn't any man in the coun- try could handle him in those days. I've seen him throw a three-year-ol' steer like you'd slap over a kid. He was easy and quiet, commonly, like one of them still deep rivers that slip along peaceful till somethin' gits in lt's
way. The patientest feller I ever see with dumb brutes,
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