The Bad Man

e young Jones, he was not afraid. He was an efficient, well-set-up young fellow, with three consuming passions: Arizona, his harmonica, and Angela Hardy. The first

articularly Uncle Henry, who went into a rage whenever he heard the detested in

me excuse to get over to the Hardy ranch; and always his beloved instrument went along with him in his pocket, and he would approach his lady love's castle like the troubadours of old, his foot tapping on the path while his

hair curl; and her pastry was succulent and sweet, and literally melted in the mouth. Her coffee-ah! who could make better coffee? And as the meals at the Jones ranch were served sporadically, and "Red" was as healthy as a peasant a

h?nix, "Red" invariably came around to the door with music on his lips, his shock of hair blown by the soft wind, looking

only reply; and she ended by begging him to come in and play for her while she mes

were going so badly for Jones, "Red" slipped up the road and

ng. "Come in, an' maybe-who knows?-I'll find a cup o'

flour-barrel or over the dough-board, and her ruddy cheeks and honest gray eyes spoke of health and good nature. She adored Angela; and she really liked "Red" tremendously, and hoped in the end he would win the difficult and fickle girl. But, like Angela, she had moment when she could have shaken him. For "Red" didn't figh

ing, and took out his harmonica, running

"But first see that yer feet is wiped off. I d

, as most women are, to serve a handsome young chap, and

the griddle-cakes, gloriously brown, and def

tive "Red," sitting down, and getting busy, "Won't you come t

uinn exclaimed, her arms akimbo. "Ain't ye happy enough with yer Angela, an' no fat funeral like me occupyin' too much room i

urse I

oorway like a vision-a morning-glory from which the

ld you, Angela?" He looked at her, drank her beauty i

. "You're a boob, 'Red,' and if you don't lo

Red" managed to get o

r she had shoved him back to his late breakfast. Mrs. Quinn, amused, was busy with some more cakes, though "Red" had scarcely had

the other day when I went by," said "Red

"You don't always have such s

you waved!" disappo

g him, but he didn't kn

care, Angy. Even if I had to go to Bisbee four times a day and get some good-lookin' folks t

now how lucky you are!" she countered. "It's

ht; but gosh! a feller does like a little encourag

you is cruelty, you ought to see

er do!" He drank a

to like that coffee a lot more than you li

r. He was as literal-minded as a child. "You certainly are the fu

Better look out, 'Red,' or I'll sue M

o that!" said the k

m morning is more than I can see-and then play me some tunes. I'm dying to hear some music. This afternoon Dad says he's going o

ow, Angy! Thank

nce. "For the love o' Mike, 'Red,' woo her, an' woo her hard! There is a feller in Bisbee. She's af

." "You're a good friend, Mrs. Quinn. I

to do before ye're able to win Angela

er domain; and he found himself

gola she had had built, covered with vines. A little fountain tin

lone with Angela. One moment she poute

soon, 'Red.' Will you

But I'm not so sure I'm goin', Angy. Something tells me that even if your father

sn't that way until after Ma died. I do wish he'd be more human. I've talked to him and talked

ught to get back. Maybe he needs some cheerin' u

d he would walk. No trouble at all; and what did he care how hot i

still running his lips along the instrument when he enter