Betty complied with Tom's expressed wish, for she did not again
visit Thicket Point, but then she had not intended doing so.
However, the planter was greatly shocked by the discovery he
presently made that she was engaged in a vigorous correspondence
with Charley.
"I wish to blazes Murrell had told those fellows to kick the life
clean out of him while they were about it!" he commented
savagely, and fell to cursing impotently. Brute force was a
factor to be introduced with caution into the affairs of life,
but if you were going to use it, his belief was that you should
use it to the limit. You couldn't scare Norton, he was in love
with that pink-faced little fool. Keep away?--he'd never think
of it, he'd stuff his pockets full of pistols and the next man
who stopped him on the road would better look out! It made him
sick--the utter lack of sense manifested by Murrell, and his
talk, whenever they met, was still of the girl. He couldn't see
anything so damn uncommon about that red-and-white chit. She
wasn't worth running your neck into a halter for--no woman that
ever lived was worth that.
The correspondence, so far as Betty was responsible for it, bore
just on one point. She wanted Charley to promise that for a
time, at least, he would not attempt to see her. It seemed such
a needless risk to take, couldn't he be satisfied if he heard
from her every day?
Charley was regretful, but firm. Just as soon as he could mount
his horse he would ride down to Belle Plain.
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