The man continued. “Mebbe ef I’d stayed things might hev been diff’rent, but, no, I reckon I never could hev done as well as I’m a-doin’ here. Now, I dare say ye ain’t got a scrap of yer dad’s writin’? Ef ye hev and I could git my hands free I’d show ye my fist so ye could compare the two, ef ye don’t believe me.” Then suddenly. “Why, shucks, gal, what on airth do ye reckon I’d want to claim a strange gal fer? Ye ain’t so purty; ye ain’t no fortin; ye ain’t no prospicks. What on airth would I be tellin’ ye all this fer ef I didn’t hev some natrel affection and wanted ye jest because yer my own flesh an’ blood? Now, look-a-here, you come to yer dad. He ain’t so terble po’ly off, and maybe he’ll git together sompin’ more to leave ye, and ye won’t be destitute when he’s gone.” Louisa helplessly twisted her fingers together. She began to believe the man was speaking the truth, but it was hard to readjust her attitude of mind. The father of her affections was a hero, a soldier, one whom she reverenced and whose name was enshrined with that of her mother in a fragrant memory. How could she accept this old man, horse thief and perhaps worse? “But my father was a soldier, an honorable man who died for Texas,” she quavered, her beliefs dying hard. “Well, if I didn’t die for Texas, I’m like to die of her,” remarked Cyrus, “especially ef I don’t git out of this. I was a soldier all right an’ shed my blood. I was reported dead. That’s all true enough.” “But now--now you are a horse thief.” Louisa spoke with passionate reproach. “Who says I am?” said Cyrus coolly. “I do. Why, you can’t deny it. Didn’t we catch you in the very act of stealing our horses?” “Whose horse did ye see me takin’ away? Was it yourn?” “No, it wasn’t mine.” “Was it either of them other gals’?” “No, not theirs.” “Was it John Ross’s then?” “No.” “Then whose was it, and what right had anybody here to claim it?” “It belongs to Steve Hayward.” “And where’s Steve Hayward?” “No one knows.” “Then how do ye know the horse is his? Why gal, yer ’way off. Thet horse is mine. I bought him off of Steve Hayward and he got away from my place, broke loose and came back here. I didn’t hear of it till a bit ago. I been a-lookin’ fer thet hoss fer weeks an’ months. I suppose it might hev been better if I hed come up and claimed him, but I heerd thar wa’n’t anybody but you gals about, and I knew how women folks is, so rather than make any trouble I thought I’d jest come in quiet like an’ he’p myself to my own.” “But those other men, those who were with you,” said Louisa bewildered by this unexpected defense, “they surely did steal three of Mr. John’s horses.”