"Nothin' to tell." Bob leaned against the table and looked drearily at the floor. The world had come to an end for him. That was all. "He showed up an' took June from me--made me tell her to go along with him." "How did he do that? Did he cover you with a gun?" "No. I had the gun--till he took it from me." He gave the explanation he had used twice already within the hour. "I'm no good." Blister heaved himself up from the chair and waddled closer to the boy. He shook a fat forefinger in his face. He glared at him fiercely. "Say, where you from?" "Austin, Texas, when I was a kid." "Well, damn you, Texas man, I w-want to t-tell you right now that you're talkin' blasphemy when you say you're n-no good. The good Lord made you, didn't He? D-d' you reckon I'm goin' to let you stand up there an' claim He did a pore job? No, sir. Trouble with you is you go an' bury yore talent instead of w-whalin' the stuffin' outa that Jake Houck fellow." "I wish I was dead," Bob groaned, drooping in every line of his figure. "I wish I'd never been born." "Blasphemy number two. Didn't He make you in His image? What right you got wishin' He hadn't created you? Why, you pore w-worm, you're only a mite lower than the angels an' yore red haid's covered with glory." Blister's whisper of a voice took unexpectedly a sharp edge. "Snap it up! That red haid o' yours. Hear me?" Bob's head came up as though a spring had been released. "B-better. K-keep it up where it belongs. Now, then, w-what are you aimin' for to do?" Bob shook his head. "Get outa this country, like Hollister said. Find a hole somewheres an' pull it in after me." "No, sir. Not none. You're gonna stay right here--in the country round Bear Cat--where every last man, woman, an' k-kid will know how you ate d-dirt when Houck told you to." "I couldn't do that," the boy pleaded. "Why, I wouldn't have a chance. I'd know what they were sayin' all the time." "Sure you'd know it. Tha's the price you g-gotta pay for g-grovelin'. Don't you see yore only chance is to go out an' make good before the folks who know how you've acted? Sneak off an' keep still about what you did, amongst s-strangers, an' where do you get off? You know all yore life you're only a worm. The best you can be is a bluff. You'd be d-duckin' outa makin' the fight you've gotta make. That don't get you anywhere a-tall. No, sir. Go out an' reverse the verdict of the court. Make good, right amongst the people who're keepin' tabs on yore record. You can do it, if you c-clamp yore j-jaw an' remember that yore red haid is c-covered with g-glory an' you been given dominion." "But--" "S-snap it up!" squeaked Blister. The red head came up again with a jerk. "Keep it up." "What'll I do? Where'll I find work?" "Out on the range. At the K Bar T, or the Keystone, or the Slash Lazy D. It don't m-matter where." "I can't ride."