Page:Sheep Limit (1928).pdf/123

 "What money?" Tippie asked, facing around in his challenging, surly way.

"That million or so you mentioned to Peck. Of course, I understand you stretched it a good deal."

"I wasn't 'praisin' property when I said she was worth a million and more; I was talkin' about the girl. If I was a young man I'd take her ahead of any money. A good woman's worth more to a man than a million of money, any day. Edith ain't got no money—nothing to speak of."

"Is that a fact?"

Rawlins was interested. If that could be poured into Peck's ear it very likely would start him on his way to St. Joe quicker than any amount of plotting against his valor and dignity.

"Her folks died when she was a little tad, left her a few thousand, but nothing to speak of in this country where money's so common it's a bother to pack it around. I remember the day she come here. Duke was alive then. She was a little spindle-shanked, towheaded kid that looked like she'd been raised on soup. I learnt her to ride a horse. And look at her now! They don't grow any purtier, and they don't grow any better."

"I believe you," Rawlins said, with the sincerity of one who had needed no argument to convince him.

"So you can see how it is. If I git a chance to boost anybody she likes I go the limit, and if I have to hit somebody she don't like, I'll hit him double hard."

"Plain enough," said Rawlins.

"Tippie measured the sun and said it was dinner-time when they had put the horses away and thrown them