Again this outlandish interfering on the part of Uncle Henry! Was the old fellow losing his reason? There was no privacy in their affairs--everything was an open book to anyone who came to the adobe. It was getting to be unbearable. Gilbert had controlled himself long enough in the presence of others. He was sick and tired of the old man's meddling. "Keep still!" he warned him, and shook his finger in his face, "Keep still, I say!" His cheeks were scarlet with rage. The blood pounded in his veins. The invalid never lost his courage. "You won't marry her?" was what he said. "How can I, you--you--" Gilbert could scarcely stand it any longer. "Gol darn, the gol darn--" cried Uncle Henry; and then he swerved on Jasper Hardy: "Maybe you can persuade him," he suggested. "Persuade him to what?" "To marry her," Smith brazenly said. "I don't want him to marry her," the father was honest enough to say. This had never occurred to Uncle Henry. "What's the matter with him?" he asked, his eyes opening wide in amazement. "It would take too long to tell you." Hardy considered the argument closed; but Uncle Henry came right back again: "But he's my nevyer!" "That's one of my main reasons," Hardy cruelly announced; and the only come-back poor Uncle Henry had was an exasperated, "Oh, is that so!" drawled out peevishly, weakly. "I want his ranch, not him," Hardy went on. He might have been discussing someone not in the room. "But he's a fine young feller, if I do say so!" Uncle Henry came to Gilbert's rescue, after the manner of all relatives when an outsider steps in with criticism. "Only a minute ago I heard you call him a gol darn fool!" Hardy triumphantly reminded him. "There you are," said Gilbert, addressing his uncle. "That's what you get--" "Do you think I want my darter to marry a gol darn fool?" Hardy fired back at the old man. Uncle Henry was flabbergasted, completely done for, for the moment. "Well, what the--" But he could get no farther. Jasper Hardy looked at Gilbert, "Well, now that's settled." Uncle Henry butted in once more. "You won't let her?" "Let her what?" A pair of steely eyes were fixed on the questioner. "Marry him. Won't you?" "Of course not. What are you talking about, you old fool?" Uncle Henry was not to be outdone. He whisked around, facing the door, and called at the top of his voice: "Angely! Angely!" From the yard came back, "Yes, I'm coming!" and Hardy's daughter ran in, with "Red" at her heels. "Did you call me?" she wanted to know, looking at all three. "Yes; I did," said Uncle Henry. "I wanted to tell you that it ain't no use. They won't neither of 'em do nothin'." "Who won't?" asked Angela, mystified. She hadn't an idea what the old man was talking about. "The poor stiffs!" said Uncle Henry. "Do what?" Angela pursued. "I asked 'em!" the invalid whined. The girl grew impatient. "For goodness' sake, asked them what?" "To marry you, of course!" Angela thought she must be dreaming.