face that would remind you of a good, honest boy. Red, white, and
black were the colours she flew. Hair and eyes black, cheeks and
lips red, and the rest of her white. Now, there's a pile of
difference in them colours; when you say 'red,' for instance, you
ain't cleaned up the subject by a sight. My top-knot's red, but
that wasn't the colour of Loy's cheeks. No; that was a colour I
never saw before nor since. A rose would look like a tomater
alongside of 'em. Then, too, I've seen black eyes so hard and
shiny you could cut glass with 'em. And again that wasn't her
style. The only way you could get a notion of what them eyes were
like would be to look at 'em; you'd remember 'em all right if you
did. Seems like the good Lord was kind of careless when he built
Jonesy, but when he turned that girl out he played square with the
fambly.

"I ain't what you might call a man that's easily disturbed in his
mind, but I know I says to myself that first day, 'If I was ten
year younger, young lady, they'd never lug you back East again.'
Gee, man! There was a time when I'd have pulled the country up by
the roots but I'd have had that girl! I notice I don't fall in
love so violent as the years roll on. I can squint my eye over the
cards now and say, 'Yes, that's a beautiful hand, but I reckon I'd
better stay out,' and lay 'em down without a sigh; whereas, when I
was a young feller, it I had three aces in sight I'd raise the rest
of the gathering right out of their foot-leather--or get caught at
it. Usually I got caught at it, for a man couldn't run the mint
long with the kind of luck I have.

"Well, I was plumb disgusted with the fool way I'd rigged myself
up, but, fortunately for me, Darragh, the station-man, came out