Beckey was strangely comforted by the protective drawl of the big man's voice. Accustomed as she had grown to the rapid transitions of the West, she realized the fallacy of her first impression from his appearance. That night laid the foundation of her regard for him, which was deeper than a mere surface appeal, and which was never to waver. * * * * * “H'm,” snorted Cornish Jack, shuffling a greasy pack of cards in Sick Jimmie's place and watching two men go by, “that's the most willin' pair on the gulch! Bob, he's willin' to do all the work, an' Handsome Harry, he's willin' to let 'im. Fine house Bob's just built. Must of cost a heap.” “They say that Miss Beckey and her mother are going to live in it,” answered Plug Hat Pete. “I'll raise you ten.” “Handsome Harry's bin a-dancin' round that gal ever since they moved here, six months ago.” “Yes, and the look in her eyes in another direction, is plainly to be read.” The implication was lost on Cornish Jack. “Ol' Bob, he does all he can to throw 'em together. Air ye goin' to the house warmin' tonight?” “Certainly,” said The Senator. “Particularly if we manage to keep old Tommy Norton and Black Joe from getting intoxicated, so there will be a pair of fiddlers on the gulch. Tommy, on such occasions, always has an attack of religion which precludes the possibility of his assisting at any profane scene of mirth, and Joe falls into a deep sleep from which nothing can rouse him for twenty-four hours.” “There's Antelope back. I hear his roan.” “Well, who do you think I met down around the curve of Blackjack Hill? That gal o' Bob's on her pinto and that sneakin' Handsome Harry on his black mustang, ridin' full-bent-for-leather!” The men rushed with one accord to Bob's cabin, where he sat before his fireless hearth. “We al'ays knew he was a sneakin' thief, but you wouldn't hear nothin' agin him. Took all the bags of gold dust from your claim, too, didn't he?” “Now, boys, that isn't fair to call him a thief. He was my partner and what was mine was his, and a man has a right to take his own wherever he finds it.” “But the gal?” asked a chorus of voices. “That girl wasn't in any way bound to me, and you can't expect a pretty creature like her to care for such a beauty as I am, when there's a fellow like Handsome Harry around. It don't stand to reason.” “Come, fellows,” said Poker Bill, “if Bob's satisfied I reckon we ought to be. Time to get into our biled shirts for the house warmin', anyway.” “Sorry to disappoint you, boys, but there won't be a house warming. I built it for them and they're gone. It'll stay locked till they come again. This old cabin is good enough for me.” So they left him. Bob relit his pipe and settled back on his bench. Once he roused a moment to mutter. “But they'd ought to know me better. They needn't have run away from their best friend.”