“Do you think I want my darter to marry a gol darn fool?” Hardy fired back at the old man.

Uncle Henry was flabbergasted, completely done for, for the moment.  “Well, what the—­” But he could get no farther.

Jasper Hardy looked at Gilbert, “Well, now that’s settled.”

Uncle Henry butted in once more.  “You won’t let her?”

“Let her what?” A pair of steely eyes were fixed on the questioner.

“Marry him.  Won’t you?”

“Of course not.  What are you talking about, you old fool?”

Uncle Henry was not to be outdone.  He whisked around, facing the door, and called at the top of his voice: 

“Angely!  Angely!”

From the yard came back, “Yes, I’m coming!” and Hardy’s daughter ran in, with “Red” at her heels.

“Did you call me?” she wanted to know, looking at all three.

“Yes; I did,” said Uncle Henry.  “I wanted to tell you that it ain’t no use.  They won’t neither of ’em do nothin’.”

“Who won’t?” asked Angela, mystified.  She hadn’t an idea what the old man was talking about.

“The poor stiffs!” said Uncle Henry.

“Do what?” Angela pursued.

“I asked ’em!” the invalid whined.

The girl grew impatient.  “For goodness’ sake, asked them what?”

“To marry you, of course!”

Angela thought she must be dreaming.

“You—­asked him—­to marry me?” She looked about her, bewildered.

“Yes; and he turned you down!”

Surely now this must be a dream!  “Red,” too, was in a daze, suffering vicariously for his adored one.

“Oh!” cried Angela, when a full realization of what Uncle Henry meant came over her.

Uncle Henry went on:  “Like your own payrent—­the stony-hearted old reptile!”

“Oh, Gil—­” began Angela in tears.

“Go on—­you ask ’em!” suggested Uncle Henry.

“Gil—­” the girl got out the first syllable of his name, and no more; for her little handkerchief was at her pretty nose.

“I’m sorry,” said Gilbert, gallantly, going to her.  “Please don’t feel badly about it.”

“Don’t—­don’t speak to me!” Angela sniffed, and stamped her dainty foot.  “Don’t look at me!  I hate you!  I hate you!  I hate you all!” Blinded with rage and tears, she crossed the room, and stumbled directly into Uncle Henry’s chair, and all but tipped him over.  “Red” followed her, solicitously.

“Now, Angela—­” he said, and tried to grasp her arm.  “Remember, I’m here!”

But all the thanks he got was a wild, “Get out of my way!” and he found himself pushed aside, into a corner.  Another of her unsuspected tantrums!

“My God!” ejaculated Uncle Henry, furious at Angela’s accident, which so directly concerned himself, “but everybody’s unreasonable to-day!” He turned harshly on his nephew.  “You make me sick, you!  Here am I doing my gol darndest to save the mess you’ve made, and you won’t even—­” He broke off, unable, in his wrath, to continue.  His eye lit on Hardy.  “Look here,” he cried, in desperation, “ain’t there no way out of this thing?  It was my money that bought this ranch, you know.  And everybody knows it!  The last ten thousand dollars I had in the world!” There was a sob in his voice on the last words.