"He isn't in any position now to pick and choose"--this between hiccoughs and yawns--"I saw him early this morning; I know his back anywhere. I'd just met old Jim White. I reckon Burke was calculating to shoot Jim, but my coming upset his plans. Shooting a sheriff ain't safe business." What Greyson really had seen was Truedale's retreat after parting company with Jim, but not knowing of Truedale's existence he jumped to the conclusion which to his fuddled wits seemed probable, and had so informed Marg upon his return. "I tell yo', Nella-Rose," he ran on, "yo' better marry Burke and tame him. There ain't nothing as tames a man like layin' responsibilities on him." "Come, father, let me help you to the table. I don't want to talk about Burke. I don't believe he's back." She steadied the rolling form to the head of the table. "I tell yo', chile, I saw Burke's back; don't yo' reckon I know Lawson when I see him, back or front? Don't yo' want ter marry Lawson, Nella-Rose?" "No, I wouldn't have him if he asked me. It would be like marrying a tree that the freshet was rolling about. I'm not going to seek and hide with any man." "Why don't yo' let Marg have 'im then? She'd be a right smart responsibility." "She can have him and welcome, if she can find him!" Then, hearing her sister outside, she called: "Come in, Marg. Shut out the cold and the dark. What's the use of acting like a little old hateful?" Marg slouched in; there was no other word to describe her indifferent and contemptuous air. "He's coming around?" she asked, nodding at her father. "Yes--he's come," Nella-Rose admitted. "All right, then, I'm going to tell him something!" She walked over to her father and stood before him, looking him steadily in the eyes. "I--I killed the hog to-day;" she spoke sharply, slowly, as to a dense child. Peter Greyson started. "You--you--did that?" "Yes. While you were off--getting drunk, and while Nella-Rose was traipsing back there in the Hollow I killed the hog; but I'll never do it again. It sickened the soul of me. I'm as good as Nella-Rose--just as good. If you can't do your part, father, and she _won't_ do hers, that's no reason for me being benastied with such work as I did to-day. You hear me?" "Sure I hear you, Marg, and I'm plumb humiliated that--that I let you. It--it sha'n't happen again. I'll keep a smart watch next year. A gentleman can't say more to his daughter than that--can he?" "Saying is all very well--it's the doing." Marg was adamant. "I'm going to look out for myself from now on. You and Nella-Rose will find out." "What's come to you, Marg?" Peter looked concerned. "Something that hasn't ever come before," Marg replied, keeping her eyes on Nella-Rose. "There be times when you have to take your life by the throat and strangle it until it falls into shape. I'm gripping mine now."