Rowdy of the "Cross L"
Harry about—those things he did to you. He lied to me. I'd have forgiven him—but he lied. I—can't forgive that. I"
"Hush!" Rowdy threw out a gloved hand quickly. He could not bear to let her go on like that.
She looked up at him, and all at once she was shaking. "There's something—tell me!"
"They didn't take him," he said slowly, weighing each word and looking down at her pityingly. "They never will. He—had an accident. A horse—fell with him—and—he was dead when they picked him up." It was as merciful a version as he could make it, but the words choked him, even then. "Girlie!" He went around and knelt, with his arms holding her close.
After a long while he spoke again, smoothing her hair absently, and never noticing that he had not taken off his gloves. His gray hat was pushed aslant as his head rested against hers.
"Perhaps, girlie, it's for the best. We couldn't have saved him from—the other; and that would have been worse, don't you think? We'll forget all but the good in him"—he could not help thinking that there would not be much to remember—"and
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