Steve Yeager

with Harrison had preceded him. His battered face became an immediate focus of c

moment their frank questions at him. As he drew in his chair beside a slender, tanned young woman, he

finely modeled, had the provocative effrontery that is the note of twentieth-century young womanhood.

Mr. Yeager. Some of us don'

ered with enthusiasm, accepting from Ru

. "Not much doing here. It's a dead little hole. Yo

twinkling. "Had all the excitement I could stand for one da

ld Broadway I'm there with bells on. What d'you mean, cow country?

was shipping to England. Lemme see. It

was in the pony ballet with 'Adam, Eve,

I d

third from the left in the 'Good-Night' ch

eager promptly. He buried her little hand in his big brown paw, a f

ou, did he?" she commented

se aeroplanes, hammer my haid with a pile-driver, and jounce me up and down on

lowering her voice discreetly, she added: "Harrison's a bru

oom with such rhythmic grace helping the Chinese waiter serve

inger? Wouldn't it give you a jolt that a nice little

cowpuncher under cover of the conversation t

got to do with it? Harrison has hypnotized the kid, I guess. He throws a big ches

nconsequent fashion she had, and presently deserted Yeager to

. It was one Farrar had given him. He was cherishing it because his financial asset

e barn stairs hum

Davy came a-

a song s

sang till the m

med the hea

e cha

his song. Ruth Seymour was in the room putt

ink you would be through dinner so soon

up to get a cigar I left on the

rehead and the cheeks. A bit of plaster stretched diagonally above the right cheekbone where the prizefighter's knuckles had cut a deep gash. Little ridges covered

embled. "I'm sorr

Seymour. I wasn't hurt any-none to speak of. It don't

im first,

he was at. He was entitled to a come-back. I'm noways

fawn, but with a certain resolution, too, the tro

ings?" she asked with

. "Search me. I reckon the cave man is lurking aroun

ht he was hurting Miss Winters. Why didn't you tell h

ot bat an eye at thi

hink of that? Then of course

suppose all brave men are. But he's

he whalings he gives. But don't worry about me. I'm al

emory a picture of a troubled young creature with soft, ten

el walk toward the house. A malevolent gle

eeling, yo

grin. "Every time I open my mouth my face cracks. You ce'tainly did give m

's more at the same addr

time to make a getaway," r

the walk there drifted back to the pr

out on the

grave just s

d coyotes wil

out on the l

e song that he resented. He had given this youth the thrashing of his life, but he had app

ieve that the child knew what she was doing. To think of her as the future wife of Chad Harrison moved him to resentment at life's satiric paradoxes. To give this sweet you