"I ain’t pullin’ no leather!" retorted Henry, coloring. "I reckon a man’s got a right to give a present to his gal!" "Shore!" endorsed Tex heartily. "There ain’t no question about it--when she comes right out an’ admits that she is his gal. This Saunders woman ain’t admittin’ it, yet; an’ if she figgers that yo’re weakenin’ on yore play of ignorin’ her, then she’ll just set back an’ hold you off so th’ presents won’t stop comin’. This is a woman’s game, an’ she can beat a man, hands down an’ blindfolded: an’ they know it. I tell you, Hennery, a wild cayuse that throws its first rider ain’t no deader set on stayin’ wild than a woman is set on makin’ a man go through his tricks for her if she finds he’s performin’ for her private amusement, an’ payin’ for th’ privilege, besides. It ain’t no laughin’ matter for you, Hennery; but I can’t hardly keep _from_ laughin’ when I think of you stayin’ away to get her anxious, an’ then sendin’ her presents! It’s yore own private affair, an’ yo’re runnin’ it yore own way--but them’s _my_ ideas." Henry stared into space, gravely puffing on a cold cigarette. His low, furrowed brow denoted intense mental concentration, and the scowl which grew deeper did not suggest that his conclusions were pleasant. The simile regarding the wild horse sounded like good logic to him, for he prided himself that he knew horses. Finally he looked anxiously at his deeply thinking companion. "It sounds right, Marshal," he grudgingly admitted; "but it shore is hard advice to foller. I’m plumb anxious to buy her somethin’ nice, somethin’ she can’t get in this part of th’ country, an’ somethin’ she can wear an’ know come from me." He paused in some embarrassment and tried to speak carelessly. "If you was goin’ to get a woman like her some present--mind, I’m sayin’ _if_--what would you get?" Tex reflected gravely. "Candy don’t mean nothin’," he cogitated, in a low, far-away voice. "Anybody she knew at all could give her candy. It don’t mean nothin’ special, a-tall." He did not appear to notice how his companion’s face fell at the words. "Books are like candy--just common presents. A stranger almost could give ’em. Ridin’ gloves is a little nearer--but Tommy, or me, could give them to her. Stockin’s? Hum: I don’t know. They’re sort of informal, at that. ’Tain’t everybody, however, could give ’em. Only just one man: get my idea?" "I shore do, Marshal," beamed Henry. "You see, livin’ out here all my life an’ not ’sociatin’ with wimmin--like her, anyhow--I didn’t know hardly what would be th’ correct thing. Wonder what color?" Tex was somewhat aghast at his joke being taken so seriously. "Now, you look here, Hennery!" he said in a warning voice. "You promise me not to send her no stockin’s till I says th’ word." He had wanted to give Jane more reason to dislike the nephew, but hardly cared to have it go that far. "Stayin’ away, are you? You make me plumb sick, you do! Stayin’ away, h--l!"