minds of both.

"I'm sorry to hear, Mr. Vaughan, that you are on bad terms with Harry. What
was the trouble?" She turned her head and smiled at him--but the smile did
not bring his lips to answer; it was unpleasantly like the way Harry smiled
when he had some deviltry in mind.

Rowdy scented trouble and parried. "Men can't always get along agreeably
together."

"And you disagree with a man rather emphatically, I should judge. Harry said
you knocked him down." Politeness ruled her voice, but cheeks and eyes were
aflame.

"I did. And of course he told you how he took a shot at me from a dark
corner, outside." Rowdy's eyes, it would seem, had kindled from the fire in
hers.

"No, he didn't--but I--you struck him first."

"Hitting a man with your fist is one thing," said Rowdy with decision.
"Shooting at him from ambush is another."

"Harry shouldn't have done that," she admitted with dignity. "But why
wouldn't you take a drink with him? Not that I approve of drinking--I wish
Harry wouldn't do such things--but he said it was an insult the way you
refused."

"Jessie--"