why I feel they're goin' to kill me。 I feel it heah。〃 With solemn
gesture he placed his broad hand over his heart。 〃An'； Jean； strange
whispers come to me at night。 It seems like your mother was callin'
or tryin' to warn me。 I cain't explain these queer whispers。 But I
know what I know。〃
〃Jorth has his followers。 You must have yours；〃 replied Jean； tensely。
〃Shore； son； an' I can take my choice of the best men heah；〃 replied
the rancher； with pride。 〃But I'll not do that。 I'll lay the deal
before them an' let them choose。 I reckon it 'll not be a long…winded
fight。 It 'll be short an bloody； after the way of Texans。 I'm lookin'
to you； Jean； to see that an Isbel is the last man！〃
〃My Goddad！ is there no other way？ Think of my sister Annof my
brothers' wivesofof other women！ Dad； these damned Texas feuds
are cruel； horrible！〃 burst out Jean； in passionate protest。
〃Jean； would it be any easier for our women if we let these men shoot
us down in cold blood？〃
〃Oh nono； I see； there's no hope ofof。 。 。 。 But； dad； I wasn't
thinkin' about myself。 I don't care。 Once started I'llI'll be
what you bragged I was。 Only it's so hard to…to give in。〃
Jean leaned an arm against the side of the cabin and； bowing his face
over it； he surrendered to the irresistible contention within his
breast。 And as if with a wrench that strange inward hold broke。
He let down。 He went back。 Something that was boyish and hopefuland
in its place slowly rose the dark tide of his inheritance； the savage
instinct of self…preservation bequeathed by his Indian mother； and the
fierce； feudal blood lust of his Texan father。
Then as he raised himself； gripped by a sickening coldness in his
breast； he remembered Ellen Jorth's face as she had gazed dreamily
down off the Rimso soft； so different； with tremulous lips； sad；
musing； with far…seeing stare of dark eyes； peering into the unknown；
the instinct of life still unlived。 With confused vision and nameless
pain Jean thought of her。
〃Dad； it's hard onthethe young folks；〃 he said； bitterly。 〃The
sins of the father； you know。 An' the other side。 How about Jorth？
Has he any children？〃
What a curious gleam of surprise and conjecture Jean encountered
in his father's gaze！
〃He has a daughter。 Ellen Jorth。 Named after her mother。 The first
time I saw Ellen Jorth I thought she was a ghost of the girl I had
loved an' lost。 Sight of her was like a blade in my side。 But the
looks of her an' what she isthey don't gibe。 Old as I am； my
heartBah！ Ellen Jorth is a damned hussy！〃
Jean Isbel went off alone into the cedars。 Surrender and resignation
to his father's creed should have ended his perplexity and worry。
His instant and burning resolve to be as his father had represented
him should have opened his mind to slow cunning； to the craft of the
Indian； to the development of hate。 But there seemed to be an obstacle。
A cloud in the way of vision。 A face limned on his memory。
Those damning words of his father's had been a shockhow little or
great he could not tell。 Was it only a day since he had met Ellen
Jorth？ What had made all the difference？ Suddenly like a breath
the fragrance of her hair came back to him。 Then the sweet coolness
of her lips！ Jean trembled。 He looked around him as if he were
pursued or surrounded by eyes； by instincts； by fears； by
incomprehensible things。
〃Ahuh！ That must be what ails me；〃 he muttered。 〃The look of heran'
that kissthey've gone hard me。 I should never have stopped to talk。
An' I'm to kill her father an' leave her to God knows what。〃
Something was wrong somewhere。 Jean absolutely forgot that within
the hour he had pledged his manhood； his life to a feud which could
be blotted out only in blood。 If he had understood himself he would
have realized that the pledge was no more thrilling and unintelligible
in its possibilities than this instinct which drew him irresistibly。
〃Ellen Jorth！ Somy dad calls her a damned hussy！ Sothat explains
thethe way she actedwhy she never hit me when I kissed her。 An'
her words； so easy an' cool…like。 Hussy？ That means she's badbad！
Scornful of memaybe disappointed because my kiss was innocent！
It was； I swear。 An' all she said： 'Oh； I've been kissed before。'〃
Jean grew furious with himself for the spreading of a new sensation
in his breast that seemed now to ache。 Had he become infatuated；
all in a day； with this Ellen Jorth？ Was he jealous of the men who
had the privilege of her kisses？ No！ But his reply was hot with shame；
with uncertainty。 The thing that seemed wrong was outside of himself。
A blunder was no crime。 To be attracted by a pretty girl in the woods
to yield to an impulse was no disgrace； nor wrong。 He had been
foolish over a girl before； though not to such a rash extent。 Ellen
Jorth had stuck in his consciousness； and with her a sense of regret。
Then swiftly rang his father's bitter words； the revealing： 〃But the
looks of her an' what she isthey don't gibe！〃 In the import of
these words hid the meaning of the wrong that troubled him。
Broodingly he pondered over them。
〃The looks of her。 Yes； she was pretty。 But it didn't dawn on me at
first。 II was sort of excited。 I liked to look at her； but didn't
think。〃 And now consciously her face was called up； infinitely sweet
and more impelling for the deliberate memory。 Flash of brown skin；
smooth and clear； level gaze of dark； wide eyes； steady； bold； unseeing；
red curved lips； sad and sweet； her strong； clean； fine face rose
before Jean； eager and wistful one moment； softened by dreamy musing
thought； and the next stormily passionate； full of hate； full of
longing； but the more mysterious and beautiful。
She looks like that； but she's bad；〃 concluded Jean； with bitter
finality。 〃I might have fallen in love with Ellen Jorth ifif
she'd been different。〃
But the conviction forced upon Jean did not dispel the haunting
memory of her face nor did it wholly silence the deep and stubborn
voice of his consciousness。 Later that afternoon he sought a moment
with his sister。
〃Ann； did you ever meet Ellen Jorth？〃 he asked。
〃Yes； but not lately；〃 replied Ann。
〃Well； I met her as I was ridin' along yesterday。 She was herdin'
sheep；〃 went on Jean； rapidly。 〃I asked her to show me the way to
the Rim。 An' she walked with me a mile or so。 I can't say the meetin'
was not interestin'； at least to me。 。 。 。 Will you tell me what you
know about her？〃
〃Sure； Jean；〃 replied his sister； with her dark eyes fixed wonderingly
and kindly on his troubled face。 〃I've heard a great deal； but in this
Tonto Basin I don't believe all I hear。 What I know I'll tell you。
I first met Ellen Jorth two years ago。 We didn't know each other's
names then。 She was the prettiest girl I ever saw。 I liked her。
She liked me。 She seemed unhappy。 The next time we met was at a
round…up。 There were other girls with me and they snubbed her。
But I left them and went around with her。 That snub cut her to
the heart。 She was lonely。 She had no friends。 She talked about
herselfhow she hated the people； but loved Arizona。 She had nothin'
fit to wear。 I didn't need to be told that she'd been used to better
things。 Just when it looked as if we were goin' to be friends she
told me who she was and asked me my name。 I told her。 Jean； I
couldn't have hurt her more if I'd slapped her face。 She turned
white。 She gasped。 And then she ran off。 The last time I saw her
was about a year ago。 I was ridin' a short…cut trail to the ranch
where a friend lived。 And I met Ellen Jorth ridin' with a man I'd
never seen。 The trail was overgrown and shady。 They were ridin'
close and didn't see me right off。 The man had his arm round her。
She pushed him away。 I saw her laugh。 Then he got hold of her again
and was kissin' her when his horse shied at sight of mine。 They rode
by me then。 Ellen Jorth held her head high and never looked at me。〃
〃Ann； do you think she's a bad girl？〃 demanded Jean； bluntly。
〃Bad？ Oh； Jean！〃 exclaimed Ann； in surprise and embarrassment。
〃Dad said she was a damned hussy。〃
〃Jean； dad hates the Jorths。 〃
〃Sister； I'm askin' you what you think of Ellen Jorth。 Would you
be friends with her if you could？〃
〃Yes。〃
〃Then you don't believe she's bad。〃
〃No。 Ellen Jorth is lonely； unhappy。 She has no mother。 She lives
alone among rough men。 Such a girl can't keep men from handlin' her
and kissin' her。 Maybe she's too free。 Maybe she's wild。 But she's
honest； Jean。 You can trust a woman to tell。 When she rode past me
that day her face was white and proud。 She was a Jorth and I was an
Isbel。 She hated herselfshe hated me。 But no bad girl could look
like that。 She knows what's said of her all around the valley。
But she doesn't care。 She'd encourage gossip。〃
〃Thank you； Ann；〃 replied Jean； huskily。 〃Please keep thisthis
meetin' of mine with her all to yourself； won't you？〃
〃Why； Jean； of course I will。〃
Jean wandered away again； peculiarly grateful to Ann for reviving
and upholding something in him that seemed a wavering part of the
best of hima chivalry that had demanded to