“You wouldn’t talk so big if my father were here.”
“Mebbe I wouldn’t, me love. But he ain’t here, so he don’t matter. But, say, Zell, why can’t ye like me? I’m crazy about you, an’ if ye’ll only let me, I’ll do well by ye. I’ll take ye outside an’ show ye the wonderful sights, an’ buy ye no end of purty dresses, an’ sich things as women like. I swear I will.”
He stepped toward her as if to clasp her in his arms. But Zell drew back and stood on the defensive.
“Don’t touch me,” she warned. “I hate you, Bill, and you know it. If you love me, why did you shoot Tim?”
“’Cause I love ye, of course. I couldn’t bear to see anyone else have ye. That’s why.”
“Well, if you thought you could get me by shooting Tim, then you were mistaken. I love Tim as much as I hate you, so there.”
“Ain’t ye afraid to say sich a thing, Zell?” the man asked, while an ugly light leaped into his eyes. “Can’t ye see that yer at my mercy now, an’ that I kin do what I like with ye?”
“Can you?” The girl asked the question boldly, but her heart was beating wildly. She realised only too well how true were the man’s words. Then she suddenly thought of something tucked away in a little pocket in the bosom of her dress. It gave her new encouragement. Yes, she would shoot him if necessary, although she did not wish to commit murder. She knew that he always carried a revolver, and could use it with lightning rapidity. She must act with extreme caution.
“Zell, I don’t want to use force,” the man said, “an’ so I ask ye once more if ye’ll be mine. If ye will,
