"They can't make new heads, can they?" inquired Tommy Eye, whose mien was that of a man who had something important to impart and was casting about for a way to do it gracefully.
"Who needs a new head around here?" smilingly inquired the "mayor."
"Him," jerked out Tommy, pointing to Wade. "Leastwise, he will in about ten minutes after the boss gits here." And having thus delicately opened the subject, Tommy's tongue rushed on. "He was good to me when I didn't know it!" His finger again indicated the time-keeper. "I ain't goin' to see him done up any ways but in a fair fight. But _he's_ comin'. There's blood in his eyes and hair on his teeth. I heard him a-talkin' it over to himself--and he's goin' to kill the 'chaney man' for a-gittin' his girl away from him. Now," concluded Tommy, with a hysterical catch in his throat, "if it can be made a fair fight, knuckles up and man to man, then, says I, here's your fair notice it's comin'. But there's a girl in it, and girls don't belong in a fair fight--and I'm afeard--I'm afeard! You'd better run, 'chaney man.'"
Nina Ide was in the door behind her father. Her face was crimson, and she winked hard to keep the tears of vexed shame back--for the faces of the loungers told her that Tommy had been imparting other confidences. She did not dare to steal even a glance at Wade. She was suffering too much herself from the brutal situation.
"'A girl!' 'His girl!'" repeated Ide, seeing there was something he did not understand. "Whose--"
"Father!" cried his daughter. And when he would have continued to question, snapping his sharp eyes from face to face, she stamped her foot in passion and cried, "Father!" in a manner that checked him. He stood surveying her with open mouth and staring eyes.
Dwight Wade had fully understood the quizzical glances that were levelled at him. It was not a time--in this queer assemblage--for the observance of the rigid social conventions. Taking the father aside would be misconstrued--and slander would still pursue the girl.
"Mr. Ide," he cried, his eyes very bright and his cheeks flushing, "I want you and the others to understand this thing. It's all a mistake. Mr. Britt introduced me to your daughter, and I paid her a few civilities, such as any young lady might expect to receive. But I seem to have stirred up a pretty mess. It's a shameful insult to your daughter--this--this--oh, that man MacLeod must be a fool!"