“I did. And of course he told you how he took a shot at me from a dark corner, outside.” Rowdy's eyes, it would seem, had kindled from the fire in hers. “No, he didn't--but I--you struck him first.” “Hitting a man with your fist is one thing,” said Rowdy with decision. “Shooting at him from ambush is another.” “Harry shouldn't have done that,” she admitted with dignity. “But why wouldn't you take a drink with him? Not that I approve of drinking--I wish Harry wouldn't do such things--but he said it was an insult the way you refused.” “Jessie--” “Miss Conroy, please.” “Jessie”--he repeated the name stubbornly--“I think we'd better drop that subject. You don't understand the case; and, anyway, I didn't come here to discuss Harry. Our trouble is long standing, and if I insulted him you ought to know I had a reason. I never came whining to you about him, and it don't speak well for him that he hot-footed over to you with his version. I suppose he'd heard about me--er--going to see you, and wanted to queer me. I hope you'll take my word for it, Jessie, that I've never harmed him; all the trouble he's made for himself, one way and another. “But what I came over for to-day concerns just you and me. I wanted to tell you that--to ask you if you'll marry me. I might put it more artistic, Jessie, but that's what I mean, and--I mean all the things I'd like to say and can't.” He stopped and smiled at her, wistfully whimsical. “I've been three weeks getting my feelings into proper words, little girl, and coming over here I had a speech thought out that sure done justice to my subject. But all I can remember of it is just that--that I want you for always.” Miss Conroy looked away from him, but he could see a deeper tint of red in her cheek. It seemed a long time before she said anything. Then: “But you've forgotten about Harry. He's my brother, and he'd be--er--you wouldn't want him related--to you.” “Harry! Well, I pass him up. I've got a pretty long account against him; but I'll cross it off. It won't be hard to do--for you. I've thought of all that; and a man can forgive a whole lot in the brother of the woman he loves.” He leaned toward her and added honestly: “I can't promise you I'll ever get to like him, Jessie; but I'll keep my hands off him, and I'll treat him civil; and when you consider all he's done, that's quite a large-sized contract.” Miss Conroy became much interested in the ears of her horse. “The only thing to decide is whether you like me enough. If you do, we'll sure be happy. Never mind Harry.” “You're very generous,” she flared, “telling me to never mind Harry. And Harry's my own brother, and the only near relative I've got. I know he's--impulsive, and quick-tempered, perhaps. But he needs me all the more. Do you think I'll turn against him, even for you?” That “even” may have been a slip, but it heartened Rowdy immensely. “I don't ask you to,” he told her gently. “I only want you to not turn against me.”