“Which on us is it to be?” he cried. There was a quick, strong movement on the part of the young man Dave, and he was whirled aside for a second time. “It's to be me,” he was answered. “I'm the man to settle that--I don't leave it to no gal to settle.” In two seconds the lookers-on fell back in dismay, and there was a cry of terror from the women. Two lithe, long-limbed figures were struggling fiercely together, and there was a flash of knives in the air. Rebecca Noble sprang forward. “They will kill each other,” she said. “Stop them!” That they would have done each other deadly injury seemed more than probable, but there were cool heads and hands as strong as their own in the room, and in a few minutes they had been dragged apart and stood, each held back by the arms, staring at each other and panting. The lank peacemaker in blue jeans who held Dave Humes shook him gently and with amiable toleration of his folly. “Look 'ere, boys,” he said, “this yere's all a pack of foolishness, ye know--all a pack of foolishness. There aint no sense in it--it's jest foolishness.” Rebecca cast a quick glance at the girl Lodusky. She leaned against the wall just as she had done before; she was as cool as ever, though the spark which hinted at exultation still shone steadily in her eye. When the two ladies reached the log-cabin at which they had taken up their abode, they found that the story of the event of the evening was before them. Their hostess, whose habit it was to present herself with erratic talk or information at all hours, met them with hospitable eagerness. “Waal now,” she began, “jest to think o' them thar fool boys a-lettin' into one another in thet tharway. I never hearn tell o' sich foolishness. Young folks _is_ so foolish. 'N' they drord knives?” This is in the tone of suggestive query. “Yes,” answered Miss Noble, “they drew knives.” “They did!” benignly. “Lord! What fools! Waal now, an' Dusk--what did Dusk do?” “She stood by and looked on,” was the reply. “Lord!” with the inimitable mountain drawl; “ye don't say so! But it's jest like her--thet is. She's so cur'us, Dusk is. Thar aint no gettin' at her. Ye know the gals ses as she's allers doin' fust one quare thing 'n' then another to get the boys mad at each other. But Lor', p'r'aps 'taint so! Dusk's powerful good-lookin', and gals is jealous, ye know.” “Do you think,” questioned Miss Noble, “that they really would have killed each other?” “Lord! yaas,” placidly. “They went to do it. Both Dan'l and Dave's kinder fiery, 'n' they'd nuther on 'em hev give in with Dusk a-lookin' on--they'd hev cut theirselves to pieces fust. Young folks _is_ so foolish; gettin' mad about a gal! Lord knows gals is plenty enough.” “Not girls like this one,” said Miss Noble, laughing a little. “Waal now, she _is_ good-lookin', aint she? But she's cur'us, Dusk is--she's a cur'us creetur.” “Curious!” echoed Rebecca, finding the term vague even while suggestive.