"Oh, Jim! Lorry is so big and strong--and--and he's working for the
Starr outfit over west of here."

"Cattle, eh? Is he a good boy?"

"A nice question for you to ask! Lorry rides a straighter trail than his
father did."

The man laughed and patted her shoulder affectionately. "You needn't
have said that, Annie. You knew what I was when I married you. And no
man ever said I wasn't straight. Just what made you leave Sonora without
saying a word? Didn't I always treat you well?"

"I must say that you did, Jim. You never spoke a rough word to me in
your life. I wish you had. You'd be away for weeks, and then come back
and tell me it was all right, which meant that you'd 'got your man,' as
they say down there. At first I was too happy to care. And when the baby
came and I tried to get you to give up hiring out to men who wanted
killing done,--for that's what it was,--you kept telling me that some
day you would quit. Maybe they did pay big, but you could have been
anything else you wanted to. You came of good folks and had education.
But you couldn't live happy without that excitement. And you thought I
was happy because you were. Why, even up here in Arizona they sing
'Waring of Sonora-Town.' Our boy sings it, and I have to listen, knowing
that it is you he sings about. I was afraid of you, Jim, and afraid our
boy would grow up to be like you."

Waring nodded. "I'm not blaming you, Annie. I asked why you left
me--without a word or an address. Do you think that was square?"