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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"Desert Gold"


"Dad, I don't want you to think me a--a baby any more," she said.
"I've been insulted."
With a specific fact to make clear thought in Belding's mind he was
never slow.
"I knew something unusual had come off. I guess you'd better tell me."
"Dad, I will, if you promise."
"What?"
"Not to mention it to mother, not to pack a gun down there, and
never, never tell Dick."
Belding was silent. Seldom did he make promises readily.
"Nell, sure something must have come off, for you to ask all that."
"If you don't promise I'll never tell, that's all," she declared,
firmly.
Belding deliberated a little longer. He knew the girl.
"Well, I promise not to tell mother," he said, presently; "and
seeing you're here safe and well, I guess I won't go packing a gun
down there, wherever that is. But I won't promise to keep anything
from Dick that perhaps he ought to know."
"Dad, what would Dick do if--if he were here and I were to tell
him I'd--I'd been horribly insulted?"
"I guess that 'd depend. Mostly, you know, Dick does what you
want. But you couldn't stop him--nobody could--if there was
reason, a man's reason, to get started. Remember what he did to
Rojas!...Nell, tell me what's happened."
Nell, regaining her composure, wiped her eyes and smoothed back
her hair.
"The other day, Wednesday," she began, "I was coming home, and
in front of that mescal drinking-place there was a crowd. It was
a noisy crowd. I didn't want to walk out into the street or seem
afraid.


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