"Are yuh going to let the Pilgrim hang around here this summer?" he demanded in his straight-from-the-shoulder fashion while he was drying the first cup. "You mean Mr. Walland? I didn't know he ever 'hung around'." Flora was not meek, and Billy realized that, as he put it mentally, he had his work cut out for him to pull through without a quarrel. "I mean the Pilgrim. And I call it hanging around when a fellow keeps running to see a girl that's got a loop on her already. I don't want to lay down the law to yuh, Girlie, but that blamed Siwash has got to keep away from here. He ain't fit for yuh to speak to--and I'd a told yuh before, only I didn't have any right--" "Are you sure you have a right now?" The tone of Flora was sweet and calm and patient. "I'll tell you one thing, Charming Billy Boyle, Mr. Walland has never spoken one word against _you_. He--he _likes_ you, and I don't think it's nice for you--" "Likes me! Like hell he does!" snorted Billy, not bothering to choose nice words. "He'd plug me in the back like an Injun if he thought he could get off with it. I remember him when I hazed him away from line-camp, the morning after you stayed there, he promised faithful to kill me. Uh course, he won't, because he's afraid, but--I don't reckon yuh can call it liking--" "_Why_ did you 'haze him away,' as you call it, Billy? And kill his dog? It was a _nice_ dog; I love dogs, and I don't see how any man--" Billy flushed hotly. "I hazed him away because he insulted you," he said bluntly, not quite believing in her ignorance. Flora, her hands buried deep in the soapsuds, looked at him round-eyed. "I never heard of that before," she said slowly. "When, Billy? And what did he--say?" Billy stared at her. "_I_ don't know what he said! I wouldn't think you'd need to ask. When I came in the cabin--I lied about getting lost from the trail--I turned around and came back, because I was afraid he might come before I could get back, and--when I came in, there was _something_. I could tell, all right. Yuh sat there behind the table looking like yuh was--well, kinda cornered. And he was--Flora, he _did_ say something, or do something! He didn't act right to yuh. I could tell. _Didn't_ he? Yuh needn't be afraid to tell me, Girlie. I give him a thrashing for it. What was it? I want to know." He did not realize how pugnacious was his pose, but he was leaning toward her with his face quite close, and his eyes were blue points of intensity. His hands, doubled and pressing hard on the table, showed white at the knuckles.