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 perairie owned by her own father without bein' confronted with cowboys sayin' they're desprit, and doin' nothin' but sayin' they're desprit?"

So fair an invitation to do more than merely "say" would have inspired a knowing citizen of Painted Rock to immediate attack, but Billy Prentiss didn't recognise the invitation. Nor could he know that he looked just then exceedingly engaging, and very handsome, even better-looking than Joyce Briggs, whom Amandy had reckoned to see instead of him.

"’Tis you're fault I'm desprit," urged Billy. "You know I loves you more than I loves my own life, and I've said it repeated."

Amandy tossed her head.

"So's Joyce and Merrick and Morgan, and the lot o' you; an' if I payssed my word to one the others would be desprit. And I don't love no one, and if I did 'twould be no good, for Paw allows, ez you know well, Mr. Prentiss, that he'll blow a hole threw any cowboy as he kethes sight of within a hundred rods of me. And to-day he's very mad about everything, and was outrageous in denouncin' you