“He was drunk, Beth, and he’s too old a man. Look at that”—he clenched his fist, and the muscles of his bared forearm rose up in knots—“I could have twisted his neck with that for what he said about me and you. But I promised I wouldn’t lift a hand to him, and I didn’t, no matter what he said. I didn’t mean to meet him—and then—when he said what he did I—well, I just listened and beat it, that’s all.” The boy shoved his food away from him untouched, and looked across the table to meet Beth’s frightened eyes. “Don’t you worry, kid,” he added reassuringly, “I won’t hurt him, and he can’t hurt me—except with his gun.” The girl shuddered, and he hastened to add: “He wouldn’t do that, Beth. Don’t you think it for a minute! Even when he’s drunk he wouldn’t do that—he’s too much of a coward—he knows he’d swing for it.” “He _said_ he would, Tom.” “He said he would if I come up here again. I didn’t come, did I?” It was a month now since her stepfather in drunken rage had ordered Tom from the house and threatened to shoot him if he ever came there again. But after all, he had to come tonight, as things happened. And her stepfather was away—the first time he had been away in months—and he need never know that Tom had been here. “He won’t be back until tomorrow—you’ll be gone then,” said Beth, voicing her thoughts. Her words seemed to rouse the boy to sudden anger. “Why should he forbid my seeing you, anyway?” he went on, resentfully. “I love you, Beth, and you love me. And I want to marry you!” His tone changed abruptly. “You _do_ love me, Beth?” He held out his arms appealingly, and in answer the girl rose silently and kissed him. “You know that, Tom,” she said simply. “Then why do I have to sneak away like a thief? Just because we love each other, what’s that he’s got against me?” “You know why he said it was, Tom.” She crossed the room again to attend to the stove. “Because I haven’t got any money. I know—that’s what he said. But I’ve got enough to keep you as well as he does—and better.” He glanced around the cabin contemptuously. “You know that isn’t the reason. It’d be the same, anyway—unless maybe I had a fortune and would give him some of it.” Beth winced. It hurt, somehow, to have him say things like that. But she knew it was true. And she knew, too, just how he felt—how he resented the way he had been treated. “Besides, why shouldn’t I marry you?” the boy went on. “I’m from the East, same as you. I’ve been to college—my family’s as good as yours—for all his drunken talk—better than _his_, if you ask me. What he wants is to get you a rich husband back East if he can’t stake a big-paying claim out here. And I don’t fit into that scheme. That’s what’s the matter, and you know it.” Beth laid the coffee cups on the table and sat down again, facing him.