"Gals!" White fairly spit out the word. "Gals!" There was an eloquent pause, then more quietly: "Jest when yo' place 'em and hate 'em proper, they up and do somethin' to melt yo' like snow on Lone Dome in May. I was harkin' back to the little white hen and Nella-Rose. There ain't much chance to have a livin' pet up to Greyson's place. Anything fit to eat is et. Pete drinks the rest. But once Nella-Rose came totin' up here on a cl'ar, moonlight evenin' with somethin' under her little, old shawl. 'Jim' she says--wheedlin' and coaxin'--'I want yo' to keep this here hen fo' me. I'll bring its keep, but I love it, and I can't see it--killed!' That gal don't never let tears fall--they jest wet her eyes and make 'em shine. With that she let loose the most owdacious white bantam and scattered some corn on the floor; then she sat down and laughed like an imp when the foolish thing hopped up to her and flopped onter her lap. Well, I kept the sassy little hen--there wasn't anything else ter do--but one day Marg, she followed Nella-Rose up and when she saw what was going on, she stamped in and cried out: 'So! yo' can have playthings while us-all go starved! Yo' can steal what's our'n,--an' with that she took the bantam and fo' I could say a cuss, she wrung that chicken's neck right fo' Nella-Rose's eyes!" "Good Lord!" exclaimed Conning; "the young brute! And the other one--what did she do?" "She jest looked at me--her eyes swimmin'. Nella-Rose don't talk much when she's hurt, but she don't forget. I tell yo', young feller, bein' a sheriff in this settlement ain't no joke. Yo' know folks too well and see the rights and wrongs more'n is good for plain justice." "Well?" Jim rose and stretched himself, "yo' won't go on the b'ar hunt ter-morrer?" "No, Jim, but I'll walk part of the way with you. When do you start?" "'Bout two o' the mornin'." "Then I'll turn in. Good-night, old man! You've given me a great evening. I feel as if I were suddenly projected into a crowd with human problems smashing into each other for all they're worth. You cannot escape, old man; that's the truth. You cannot escape. Life is life no matter where you find it." "Now don't git ter talkin' perlite to me," Jim warned. "Old Doc McPherson's orders was agin perlite conversation. Get a scrabble on yer! I'll knock yer up 'bout two or thereabouts." Outside, Truedale stood still and looked at the beauty of the night. The moon was full and flooded the open space with a radiance which contrasted sharply with the black shadows and the outlines of the near and distant peaks.