The liar stood and sneered experimentally, looking at Public Opinion. But this changeful deity was no longer with him, and he heard it variously assenting, “That’s so,” and “She’s a lady,” and otherwise excellently moralizing. So he held his peace. When, however, the Virginian had departed to the roasting steer, and Public Opinion relaxed into that comfort which we all experience when the sermon ends, Trampas sat down amid the reviving cheerfulness, and ventured again to be facetious. “Shut your rank mouth,” said Wiggin to him, amiably. “I don’t care whether he knows her or if he done it on principle. I’ll accept the roundin’ up he gave us--and say! You’ll swallo’ your dose, too! Us boys’ll stand in with him in this.” So Trampas swallowed. And what of the Virginian? He had championed the feeble, and spoken honorably in meeting, and according to all the constitutions and by-laws of morality, he should have been walking in virtue’s especial calm. But there it was! he had spoken; he had given them a peep through the key-hole at his inner man; and as he prowled away from the assemblage before whom he stood convicted of decency, it was vicious rather than virtuous that he felt. Other matters also disquieted him--so Lin McLean was hanging round that schoolmarm! Yet he joined Ben Swinton in a seemingly Christian spirit. He took some whiskey and praised the size of the barrel, speaking with his host like this: “There cert’nly ain’ goin’ to be trouble about a second helpin’.” “Hope not. We’d ought to have more trimmings, though. We’re shy on ducks.” “Yu’ have the barrel. Has Lin McLean seen that?” “No. We tried for ducks away down as far as the Laparel outfit. A real barbecue--” “There’s large thirsts on Bear Creek. Lin McLean will pass on ducks.” “Lin’s not thirsty this month.” “Signed for one month, has he?” “Signed! He’s spooning our schoolmarm!” “They claim she’s a right sweet-faced girl.” “Yes; yes; awful agreeable. And next thing you’re fooled clean through.” “Yu’ don’t say!” “She keeps a-teaching the darned kids, and it seems like a good growed-up man can’t interest her.” “YU’ DON’T SAY!” “There used to be all the ducks you wanted at the Laparel, but their fool cook’s dead stuck on raising turkeys this year.” “That must have been mighty close to a drowndin’ the schoolmarm got at South Fork.” “Why, I guess not. When? She’s never spoken of any such thing--that I’ve heard.” “Mos’ likely the stage-driver got it wrong, then.” “Yes. Must have drownded somebody else. Here they come! That’s her ridin’ the horse. There’s the Westfalls. Where are you running to?” “To fix up. Got any soap around hyeh?” “Yes,” shouted Swinton, for the Virginian was now some distance away; “towels and everything in the dugout.” And he went to welcome his first formal guests.