"But now lemme tell you one thing," he went on, "I don't want to see you making no more eyes at that corporal in there. Plenty of men in the Army has run away and left three, four wives at home." "I don't care nothing about no man's past," said Annie. "They all look alike to me." "Well, I can't say that about you. Some ways you're a powerful homely girl. Your hair's gettin' sunburned around the ends like Karen Jensen's. And your eyes--turn around, won't you, so I kin remember what color your eyes is. I sort of forgot, but they ain't much. Not that I care about it. Women is nothing in my young life." "Huh! you're eighty if you're a day." "It's the way I got my hair combed." Extending a strong right arm she pushed him off the end of the saw horse. He rose, dusting his trousers calmly. "Oh, dear, I didn't think so much sinfulness could be packed in so young a life! But say, Annie, what's the use of fooling? I got to tell you the truth about it sometime. Like on my flour sack: 'Eventual, why not now?' And the plain, plumb truth is, you're the best as well as the pertiest girl that ever set a foot on Montana dirt." Annie's face was turned away now. "Your hair and eyes and teeth, and your way of talking, and your way of taking hold of things and making a home--haven't you been making a home fer all of us people here? I told you I'd have to tell the truth at last. Besides, I said I was to blame for everything that's gone wrong here. I was. But I'll give you all I am and all I got to square it, anyways you like." "Well, anyways," said Annie Squires, drawing a long breath, "I think if you took on something, you'd see it through; and you wouldn't pass the buck if you fell down." "That's me," said Wid. "I get you," said Annie. "You said that to me right out here in broad daylight, in presence of witnesses, four hens and a dog." "I said I understood you. That was all." Wid Gardner turned to her and looked her squarely, in the eyes. "Not appropry to nothing, neither here nor there, ner bragging none, I'm able to put up as much hay in a day as any two Mormons in the Two Forks Valley. In the hay fields of life, it's deeds and not words that counts. I read that in a book somewheres." "Say," he went on, suddenly, "have you noticed how perty the moonlight is on the medders these nights? You reckon it shines that same way over at Niagry?" Annie did not answer at the instant. "Well," said she at last, "in some ways this country is a lot like Cleveland. Go on over to your own house, if you've got one, and don't you never speak to me again, so long as you live." "Well, anyways," said Wid, chuckling, "you didn't really call me a sheep man. But listen--I've told you almost the truth about everything. Now I got to be going." "I was _afraid_ you'd be making some break," said Annie Squires. "I was _expecting_ you'd do some fool thing or other. I almost _knew_ you'd do it. But then----" "Yes; and but then?"