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Page 101
Slim was puzzled at first. Then it came to him that the girl had
refused to marry him. "Oh! I 'low you-all ain't a-goin' to say
you love me, then."
"I don't believe I am." Polly smiled through her tears.
Slim paused, as if steadying himself to meet the full force of
the blow.
"Mebbe it's along of my red hair?"
"It is red, isn't it?" Polly smiled kindly.
Slim ran his fingers through his locks, and looked at his
fingers, as if expecting the color would come off on his hands.
"Tain't blue," he said.
Another thought came to him. "Freckles," he asked laconically.
Polly only shook her head.
"There's only one cure for freckles--sandpaper," grinned Slim.
"But it isn't freckles," replied the girl.
Slim looked at his hands and feet. "Maybe it's fat?" he hazarded.
"Oh, I know I'm too fat! It beats all how I do keep fat."
Slim looked into his hat and sighed. "Well, I suppose we don't
get married this year, do we?"
"No, Slim," said Polly gently.
"Nor any other year to come?" Slim was still hopeful.
"That's the way it looks now."
Slim put on his hat and tried to walk jauntily to the fire,
whistling a bit of a tune. The effort was a sad failure.
"Here's where I get off. I'm in sure bad luck. Somebody must
have put a copper on me when I was born. I 'low I gotter be
movin'."
"You won't hate me, will you, Slim?"
The Sheriff took the girl's hands in his and kissed them. "Hate
you?" he almost shouted. "Why, I couldn't learn to do that; no,
siree! Not in a thousand years."
Polly slapped Slim on the back. "I'm glad of that," she cried.
"Brace up. You'll get a good wife some day. There's lots of
good fish in the sea."
Slim glanced at her ruefully. "I don't feel much like goin'
fishin' jest now. Would you mind tellin' me if I lose out on
this deal along of somebody else a-holdin' all the cards?" Slim
waited for Polly's answer.
"Why, don't you know?"
"No," he said simply.
"But he told me--"
"Who is it?" he insisted.
"No--if you don't know his name, I won't tell you," decided
Polly.
"Mebbe it's jest as well, too," assented Slim. "I don't think
I'd feel any too friendly toward him."
Slim moved toward the wagon. The action was purely involuntary,
but it frightened Polly so that she cried aloud.
Slim grasped at once the reason for her fear. "Is the feller in
that wagon?" he shouted.
"You wouldn't do him any harm, would you?" cried Polly.
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