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 party to defrauding her out of her victory in the roping contest, held him back.

Fannie managed to break out of Uncle Boley's windy grasp at last. She turned to Texas with a hasty word that she must go. She shook hands with Uncle Boley, and from the door nodded good-by to Sallie, who inclined her head, her eyes lifting for a flash from the paper, and dropping instantly again to her reading.

"Nice kid," said Uncle Boley, "and a youngster, from his talk."

"Yes, sir, quite young, sir," said Texas, drawing a long breath for the first time in ten minutes as Fannie passed the window and was gone from sight.

Sallie folded her paper, gathered her mail, got up, and stood looking Texas Hartwell in the eyes as straight as if she aimed a rifle to shoot him dead. Her face was colorless, her eyes full of indignant fire.

"Mr. Hartwell, I don't believe there is any reason whatever, sir, for you to remain in Cottonwood another hour! The best thing—the manliest thing—you can do will be to take the first train that passes, no matter which way it goes!"

She passed him, holding her skirt back for fear the hem of it might brush him, and almost darted out of the door, and away. Uncle Boley leaned