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 coldly, leaving her chair, starting toward the door.

"Alma!" he appealed.

"There's no more to be said between us, Uncle Hal. When you come to yourself, when you're a man again"

"I can't tell you, I can't tell you!" he said, frantic from the barbs which were galling him from every side. "Sit down again, Alma, hear me for a little while. You don't seem to understand the seriousness of this situation."

"Serious for you alone. You've forgotten how to talk to a man—where are your guns? You didn't have them on when you came home. Has he stripped them from you along with your honor?"

"You do Findlay an injustice to blame him for everything," Nearing made a weak defense. "He loves you, tenderly, passionately. He has told you so a hundred times."

"He's had his answer a hundred times. And what he couldn't win honestly for himself, he drives a bargain for through you! Where are your guns?"

"You raised the poor fellow's hopes lately, you renewed"

"I renewed nothing. There never was anything between us but contempt on my side, whatever was on his. I've talked with him lately, I've taken two or three little rides; I was going to Four Corners with him tonight to the dance, but not because I wanted to marry him. Uncle Hal, I was only working on a plan to help to free you."

"Free me? You can do it with a word!" Nearing