The content, the pathos, of his voice chained Carley to the spot.  Some situations, like fate, were beyond resisting.

“Shore I did,” replied Flo, dreamily.  This was the voice of a girl who was being confronted by happy and sad thoughts on her birthday.

“Don’t you—­love me—­still?” he asked, huskily.

“Why, of course, Lee!  I don’t change,” she said.

“But then, why—­” There for the moment his utterance or courage failed.

“Lee, do you want the honest to God’s truth?”

“I reckon—­I do.”

“Well, I love you just as I always did,” replied Flo, earnestly.  “But, Lee, I love him more than you or anybody.”

“My Heaven!  Flo—­you’ll ruin us all!” he exclaimed, hoarsely.

“No, I won’t either.  You can’t say I’m not level headed.  I hated to tell you this, Lee, but you made me.”

“Flo, you love me an’ him—­two men?” queried Stanton, incredulously.

“I shore do,” she drawled, with a soft laugh.  “And it’s no fun.”

“Reckon I don’t cut much of a figure alongside Kilbourne,” said Stanton, disconsolately.

“Lee, you could stand alongside any man,” replied Flo, eloquently.  “You’re Western, and you’re steady and loyal, and you’ll—­well, some day you’ll be like dad.  Could I say more? . . .  But, Lee, this man is different.  He is wonderful.  I can’t explain it, but I feel it.  He has been through hell’s fire.  Oh! will I ever forget his ravings when he lay so ill?  He means more to me than just one man.  He’s American.  You’re American, too, Lee, and you trained to be a soldier, and you would have made a grand one—­if I know old Arizona.  But you were not called to France. . . .  Glenn Kilbourne went.  God only knows what that means.  But he went.  And there’s the difference.  I saw the wreck of him.  I did a little to save his life and his mind.  I wouldn’t be an American girl if I didn’t love him. . . .  Oh, Lee, can’t you understand?”

“I reckon so.  I’m not begrudging Glenn what—­what you care.  I’m only afraid I’ll lose you.”

“I never promised to marry you, did I?”

“Not in words.  But kisses ought to—?”

“Yes, kisses mean a lot,” she replied.  “And so far I stand committed.  I suppose I’ll marry you some day and be blamed lucky.  I’ll be happy, too—­ don’t you overlook that hunch. . . .  You needn’t worry.  Glenn is in love with Carley.  She’s beautiful, rich—­and of his class.  How could he ever see me?”

“Flo, you can never tell,” replied Stanton, thoughtfully.  “I didn’t like her at first.  But I’m comin’ round.  The thing is, Flo, does she love him as you love him?”

“Oh, I think so—­I hope so,” answered Flo, as if in distress.

“I’m not so shore.  But then I can’t savvy her.  Lord knows I hope so, too.  If she doesn’t—­if she goes back East an’ leaves him here—­I reckon my case—­”

“Hush!  I know she’s out here to take him back.  Let’s go downstairs now.”