"No, I don't."
"You _did_!"
"No, I didn't. _You_ said I was brave and kind, but I denied it. I never
soberly claimed any credit for driving off that band of outlaws. That's
one reason why I've been sticking so close to business here--I felt kind
o' conscience-struck."
Her eyes were ablaze now. "Oh, it is! You've said a dozen times it was
on _my_ account."
"That's right--about eighty per cent, on yours and twenty per cent, on
my own account--I mean the old man's."
"The idea!" She rose, her face dark with indignation. "Don't you dare
come here another time. I never heard of anything more--more awful. You
a rowdy! I'll never speak to you again. Go away! I despise you."
Her anger and chagrin were genuine, that he felt. There was nothing
playful or mocking in her tone at the moment. She saw him as he was, a
reckless, vengeful young ruffian, and as such she hated him.
He got upon his feet slowly, and went out without further word of
defense.