"And _you_ a murderer! I never thought that of _you_. I can hardly believe it of you. And you calmly confess it to me as though it were nothing!" "Why, I—I—" "Don’t talk to me! To think you have human blood on your hands. To think—" "Norah! Norah, listen; won’t you?" "—that you are that sort of a man! How dare you call here as you have? How dare you?" "But I tell you they were tryin’ to get _me_! I just _had_ to. Why, I didn’t do it for nothin’. I ’ve got a right to defend myself, ain’t I?" "You _had_ to? Is that true?" she demanded. "Why, shore! Think I go ’round killin’ men, like Greener does, just for th’ fun of it?" "He doesn’t do anything of the kind," she retorted. "You know he does n’t! Did n’t you just say he blinks when he shoots off a gun?" "Yes; I did. But I didn’t want you to think he was a murderer like Nolan," he explained. Even Cookie, he thought, would find it hard to get around that neat little effort. "I ’m so relieved," she laughed, delighted at her success in twisting him. "I am so glad he does n’t blink when he shoots. I ’d hate a man who was afraid to shoot." Johnny’s chest arose a little. "Well, how ’bout me?" "But you’ve killed men; you’ve shot down your fellow men; and have ghastly marks on your revolver to brag about." "Well—say—but how can I shoot without shootin’ or kill without killin’?" he demanded. "An’ I don’t brag about ’em, neither; it makes me feel too sad to do any braggin’. An’ Greener’s killed ’em, too; an’ he brags about it." "Yes; but he doesn’t blink!" she exclaimed triumphantly. "Neither do _I_." "Yes; but you shoot to kill." "Lord pity us—don’t _he_?" "Y-e-s, but that’s different," she replied, smiling brightly. Johnny looked around the room, his eyes finally resting on his hat. "Yes, I see it’s different. Greener can kill, an’ blink! I can’t. If he kills a man he’s a hero; I ’m a murderer. I kinda reckon he ’s got th’ trail. But I love you, an’ you ’ve got to pick my trail—does it lead up or down?" "Johnny Nelson! What are you saying?" she demanded, arising. "Something turrible, mebby. I don’t know; an’ I don’t care. It’s true—so there you are. Norah, can’t you see I do?" he pleaded, holding out his hands. "Won’t you marry me?" She looked down, her cheeks the color of fire, and Johnny continued hurriedly: "I ’ve loved you a whole month! When I ’m ridin’ around I sorta’ see you, an’ hear you. Why, I talk to you lots when I ’m alone. I ’ve saved up some money, an’ I had to work hard to save it, too. I ’ve got some cows runnin’ with our’n—in a little while I ’ll have a ranch of my own. Buck ’ll let me use th’ east part of th’ ranch, an’ there ’s a hill over there that ’d look fine with a house on it. I can’t wait no longer, Norah, I ’ve got to know. Will you let me put this on yore finger?" He swiftly bent the pin into a ring and held it out eagerly: "Can I?"