CHAPTER ELEVEN

SYMPATHY AND ADVICE


Every bit of color was swept from Jack's face, save the black of his
lashes and eyebrows and the brown of his eyes that looked at her in
startled self-betrayal. He saw the consternation flash into her face
when she first understood how truly her random shot had hit the mark,
and he dropped upon the bench by the doorway and buried his face in
his shaking hands. But youth does not suffer without making some
struggle against the pain. Suddenly he lifted his head and looked at
her with passionate resentment.

"Well, why don't you run and tell?" he cried harshly. "There's the
telephone in there. Why don't you call up the office and have them
send the sheriff hot-footing it up here? If Jack Corey's such a
villain, why don't you do something about it? For the Lord's sake
don't stand there looking at me as if I'm going to swallow you whole!
Get somebody on the phone, and then beat it before I cut loose and be
the perfectly awful villain you think I am!"

Marion took a startled step away from him, turned and came
hesitatingly toward him. And as she advanced she smiled a little
ostentatiously whimsical smile and touched the butt of her
six-shooter.