Betty’s blood was up now and she said that would not be a matter of much importance.

“When did he insult you?” asked the elder woman, yielding to her natural curiosity.

“It was last October.”

“Pooh!  It took you a long time to tell it.  I don’t believe it amounted to much.  Mr. Clarke did not appear to be the sort of a man to insult anyone.  All the girls were crazy about him last year.  If he was not all right they would not have been.”

“I do not care if they were.  The girls can have him and welcome.  I don’t want him.  I never did.  I am tired of hearing everyone eulogize him.  I hate him.  Do you hear?  I hate him!  And I wish you would go away and leave me alone.”

“Well, Betty, all I will say is that you are a remarkable young woman,” answered Mrs. Zane, who saw plainly that Betty’s violent outburst was a prelude to a storm of weeping.  “I don’t believe a word you have said.  I don’t believe you hate him.  There!”

Col.  Zane walked straight to the Fort, entered the block-house and knocked on the door of Clarke’s room.  A voice bade him come in.  He shoved open the door and went into the room.  Clarke had evidently just returned from a tramp in the hills, for his garments were covered with burrs and his boots were dusty.  He looked tired, but his face was calm.

“Why, Col.  Zane!  Have a seat.  What can I do for you?”

“I have come to ask you to explain a remark of my sister’s.”

“Very well, I am at your service,” answered Alfred slowly lighting his pipe, after which he looked straight into Col.  Zane’s face.

“My sister informs me that you insulted her last fall before you left the Fort.  I am sure you are neither a liar nor a coward, and I expect you to answer as a man.”

“Col.  Zane, I am not a liar, and I hope I am not a coward,” said Alfred coolly.  He took a long pull on his pipe and blew a puff of white smoke toward the ceiling.

“I believe you, but I must have an explanation.  There is something wrong somewhere.  I saw Betty pass you without speaking this morning.  I did not like it and I took her to task about it.  She then said you had insulted her.  Betty is prone to exaggerate, especially when angry, but she never told me a lie in her life.  Ever since you pulled Isaac out of the river I have taken an interest in you.  That’s why I’d like to avoid any trouble.  But this thing has gone far enough.  Now be sensible, swallow your pride and let me hear your side of the story.”

Alfred had turned pale at his visitor’s first words.  There was no mistaking Col.  Zane’s manner.  Alfred well knew that the Colonel, if he found Betty had really been insulted, would call him out and kill him.  Col.  Zane spoke quietly, ever kindly, but there was an undercurrent of intense feeling in his voice, a certain deadly intent which boded ill to anyone who might cross him at that moment.  Alfred’s first impulse was a reckless desire to tell Col.  Zane he had nothing to explain and that he stood ready to give any satisfaction in his power.  But he wisely thought better of this.  It struck him that this would not be fair, for no matter what the girl had done the Colonel had always been his friend.  So Alfred pulled himself together and resolved to make a clean breast of the whole affair.