"
"Um."
"You're going to give me a free hand?"
"No."
The monosyllable burst from his lips with a violence that indicated
the rending asunder of strong barriers.
"No," he repeated. "One of us, Jefferson Wells, must be an honest man.
I ain't going to whine about the luck, but I stole--I stole--for her.
I wanted to give her what she'd always had from me: a pretty home,
nice clothes, a good time. And what's the result?" He laughed
hoarsely. "This,--this hut, those overalls, beans and bacon to eat,
and now--now--the knowledge that her dad is a thief. Well, she's
cottoned to you. I read it in her face. Quick work, they'd say back
East, but in this new country folks have to think quick and act quick.
I can think quick and act quick. You want her?"
"Worse than I ever wanted anything in my life."
"You can take care of her?"
"I am well fixed. A nest-egg in the bank, a good salary, and a pair of
arms that can carry a heavier load than she'll ever be."
Sillett nodded; then he spoke very deliberately: "I'm going back to
Santa Barbara to face the music. I shall give myself up. Hold on--let
me finish! I know something of women, and Sadie is the daughter of a
good mother.
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