"And whilst you was away, she had a talk with the station-agent--about rates East." "Hairoil! You don't mean it!" I says. I tell y', it was just like a red-hot iron 'd been stuck down my wind-pipe and was a-burnin' the lower end offen my breast-bone! "I'm sorry, ole man." He reached out a hand. "But we thought you oughta know." And then he left me. So _that_ was it! And she'd been keepin' me in the dark about it all--whilst ev'ry fence post from the Bar Y t' Briggs knowed what was happenin'! Wal, I was mad clean _through_. Then I begun t' see that I'd been a blamed fool. A fine, high-strung gal!--and I'd been orderin' her 'round like I owned her! And I'd gone away on that ride without tryin' t' make up. Wal, I'd _druv_ her to it. I started fer the house. As I come clost, acrosst the curtains, back'ards and for'ards, back'ards and for'ards, I could see her shadda pass. But when I rapped, she pulled up; then, she opened the door. "Honey," I says, "can I come in?" Her eyes was red; she'd been cryin'. But, aw! she was just as nice and sweet as she could be. "Yas, Alec, come in," she says. "Little gal," I begun, "I want t' tell you I done wrong to kick about that greaser, yas, I did. And fetchin' you home that-a-way wasn't right." "Never mind--I wanted t' come anyhow." "Thank y' fer bein' so kind. And I ain't never goin' to try to run you no more." "I'm glad of that No gal likes t' be bossed." "Just give me another chanst. Just fergive me this oncet." She smiled, her eyes shinin' with tears. "I do," she says; "Alec, I do." The next second, I had her helt clost in my arms, and her pretty haid was agin my breast. Aw, it was like them first days once more. And all the hurt went of a suddent, and the air cleared kinda--as if a storm'd just passed. My little gal! Pretty soon, (I was settin' on the organ-stool, and she was standin' in front of me, me holdin' her hands) I says, "They _is_ one thing--now that I've tole you I was wrong--they is _just_ one thing I'm goin' to ast you t' do as a favour. If you do it, things 'll go smooth with us from now on. It's this, little gal: Cut out that Doctor Bugs." "I know how you don't like him," she answers; "and you're right. 'Cause he shore played you a low-down trick at that Medicine Show. But, Alec, he brings my music-teacher." "Wal, honey, what you _want_ the teacher fer?" She stopped, and up went that pert, little haid. "You recollect what Doctor Simpson said about my voice that night at the social?" she begun. "This teacher says _the same thing._" Like a flash, I _re_called what _Hairoil_ 'd tole me. "Mace," I says, "I want t' ast you about that. A-course, I know it ain't so. But Hairoil says you got pictures of actresses and singers tacked up in you' room--just one 'r two." "Yas," she answers; "that's straight. What about it?" "It's all right, I guess. But the ole son-of-a-gun got the idear, kinda, that you was thinkin' some of--of the East."