'T ain't that; only
I just didn't like some things she said and did."
"Kid," and Hampton straightened up, his voice growing stern. "I 've
got to know the straight of this. You say you like Mrs. Herndon well
enough, but not some other things. What were they?"
The girl hesitated, drawing back a little from him until the light from
the saloon fell directly across her face. "Well," she declared,
slowly, "you see it had to be either her or--or you, Bob, and I 'd
rather it would be you."
"You mean she said you would have to cut me out entirely if you stayed
there with her?"
She nodded, her eyes filled with entreaty. "Yes, that was about it. I
wasn't ever to have anything more to do with you, not even to speak to
you if we met--and after you 'd saved my life, too."
"Never mind about that little affair, Kid," and Hampton rested his hand
gently on her shoulder. "That was all in the day's work, and hardly
counts for much anyhow. Was that all she said?"
"She called you a low-down gambler, a gun-fighter, a--a miserable
bar-room thug, a--a murderer. She--she said that if I ever dared to
speak to you again, Bob Hampton; that I could leave her house.
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