“Me!  Aw, I’m a darin’ hombre an’ a devil with the wimmin,” he said, with a guffaw.

Carley could not collect her wits.  The instant of his pushing her back into the cabin and following her had shocked her and almost paralyzed her will.  If she saw him now any the less fearful she could not so quickly rally her reason to any advantage.

“Let me out of here,” she demanded.

“Nope.  I’m a-goin’ to make a little love to you,” he said, and he reached for her with great hairy hands.

Carley saw in them the strength that had so easily swung the sheep.  She saw, too, that they were dirty, greasy hands.  And they made her flesh creep.

“Glenn will kill—­you,” she panted.

“What fer?” he queried, in real or pretended surprise.  “Aw, I know wimmin.  You’ll never tell him.”

“Yes, I will.”

“Wal, mebbe.  I reckon you’re lyin’, Pretty Eyes,” he replied, with a grin.  “Anyhow, I’ll take a chance.”

“I tell you—­he’ll kill you,” repeated Carley, backing away until her weak knees came against the couch.

“What fer, I ask you?” he demanded.

“For this—­this insult.”

“Huh!  I’d like to know who’s insulted you.  Can’t a man take an invitation to kiss an’ hug a girl—­without insultin’ her?”

“Invitation! . . .  Are you crazy?” queried Carley, bewildered.

“Nope, I’m not crazy, an’ I shore said invitation . . . .  I meant thet white shimmy dress you wore the night of Flo’s party.  Thet’s my invitation to get a little fresh with you, Pretty Eyes!”

Carley could only stare at him.  His words seemed to have some peculiar, unanswerable power.

“Wal, if it wasn’t an invitation, what was it?” he asked, with another step that brought him within reach of her.  He waited for her answer, which was not forthcoming.

“Wal, you’re gettin’ kinda pale around the gills,” he went on, derisively.  “I reckoned you was a real sport. . . .  Come here.”

He fastened one of his great hands in the front of her coat and gave her a pull.  So powerful was it that Carley came hard against him, almost knocking her breathless.  There he held her a moment and then put his other arm round her.  It seemed to crush both breath and sense out of her.  Suddenly limp, she sank strengthless.  She seemed reeling in darkness.  Then she felt herself thrust away from him with violence.  She sank on the couch and her head and shoulders struck the wall.

“Say, if you’re a-goin’ to keel over like thet I pass,” declared Ruff, in disgust.  “Can’t you Eastern wimmin stand nothin?”

Carley’s eyes opened and beheld this man in an attitude of supremely derisive protest.

“You look like a sick kitten,” he added.  “When I get me a sweetheart or wife I want her to be a wild cat.”

His scorn and repudiation of her gave Carley intense relief.  She sat up and endeavored to collect her shattered nerves.  Ruff gazed down at her with great disapproval and even disappointment.