warmth of his pride in the recent job cooled, the animation faded out of his sharp face.
"I didn't know there ever was another man out here settin' up to Edith," he said, helpless as if somebody had broken him in two. "Has there been—been—many of 'em?"
Tippie took a little memorandum book from his pocket and consulted it.
"You make thirteen," he replied. "All of 'em failed. Maybe your luck'll change, you've got the lucky number."
"She never told me there was anybody else, she never told me nothing about no test," Peck declared in injured tone. "Let me ask you one thing?"
"Shoot."
"Has that girl got anything of her own? I mean, is she a pardner in this ranch? Before I go up against any tests for a girl that's had twelve men on the line already, I want to know how much she's worth."
"She's worth a million, if she's worth a red dime," Tippie replied.
"Well, I don't know," Peck demurred. "I ain't got no dead cinch on it she'd have me if I was to put through that test you're talkin' about. She's as cold as kraut, she treats me like a stranger."
"She's been disappointed so much in these mail-order fellers that's come out here from Boston and Kansas City and places. You can't blame her. Show her what's in you and you'll be ace high. This is a dangerous country, men ridin' around achin' to take a shot at a sheepman all the time. You've got to prove you can take care of yourself and her, and protect her
