"You're too late.
While you were passed out drunk, I had a preacher tie
me and Marna up."
Rage leaped out of the madman's eyes, and he
trembled in his fury. Giving a deep, low growl, he
turned on Hertha. His hands reaching for her throat, he
yelled, "You're behind this, you old witch."
Before he could reach the cringing woman, Matt
grabbed him and spun him around. For a moment
Emery glared blindly at the man who had robbed him.
Then, uttering an animallike sound, he threw himself at
Matt, his head boring for his stomach. Matt stepped
aside, and his rock-hard fist smashed between the redrimmed eyes. There came the sound of crunching
bones, and blood splattered the floor.
Emery hit the floor hard, shaking his head dazedly.
Matt squatted down beside him. Catching the whiskered jaws in a viselike grip, he jerked Emery's head
around and glared into the fear-filled eyes. "Listen to
me good, you old bastard. I'm takin' Marna, and
there's nothin' you can do about it. And if I ever hear
that you've laid a hand on Hertha, I'll come back and
take her away, too." He released the blood-streaming
face and stood up. "You think on my words. With her
gone, you'll have no one to sponge off of."
Matt turned to Hertha. "Is the girl ready, Grandma?"
A jubilant gleam in her eyes, Hertha hurried to
Marna's room.
She returned almost immediately, Marna behind her.
Her doe eyes swimming in tears, reluctant and afraid,
she clutched a small bundle of clothes. For the second
time pity for her ran through Matt.
Stubbornly he thrust the soft feeling from him and looked away. He didn't want to have any kind of feeling for this strange girl.
Hertha kissed Marna good-bye, and Matt and his
new wife left for the camp that would be Marna's new
home.
It was not a happy pair who took the trail to Matt's
camp. There was utter silence between them, each busy
with his own thoughts.
Matt visualized the amusement that would creep into
the hunters' eyes when he introduced this girl as his
wife. They would remember how particular he was
about the women he lay with, always insisting that they
be clean and attractive. God, how they would snicker
behind his back.
He shook his head in puzzlement Why did old
Hertha let Marna go around dirty and yet keep clean
clothing on her? For instance, the dress she wore now.
It was worn thin and patched in a dozen places but was
scrupulously clean and ironed smooth.
He shook his head again. Those two were certainly a
pair.
Marna's thoughts were on the new life ahead. What
would it be like? Would she be able to take proper care
of a husband? Did she cook well enough, sew well
enough?
She decided that she could. Grandma had said many
times that she was a good cook and handled a needle
well. And Grandma never lied.
About the other side of marriage, she knew she
needn't worry. Her husband would never take her into
his bed. Still, she wondered what it would be like to rest
her head on his shoulder, how it would feel to lie in his
arms. At that thought she blushed crimson.
The stallion gave a lurch as it stepped on a loose
rock. Marna grabbed at the saddle, afraid to throw her arms around her husband's back. If she were to be that
bold, he might make her get down and walk.
After a few miles of riding around ravines and large
boulders, the mount started a descent into a shadowy
hollow. Marna heard the rush of water before they
rounded a bend and saw the river. She gave a small
exclamation of pleasure at the beauty of the clear running water.
On the opposite side of the river the wilderness grew
to its very edge. Great trees stretched branches over it,
shading its depths at all times. Big, shiny trout lay
there, waiting to be caught and placed in a frying pan.
On the side of the river where the hunters camped,
there was a small clearing about fifty feet in diameter.
In this hollowed-out spot lush grass grew among the
scattered boulders. The hunters' horses grazed
While you were passed out drunk, I had a preacher tie
me and Marna up."
Rage leaped out of the madman's eyes, and he
trembled in his fury. Giving a deep, low growl, he
turned on Hertha. His hands reaching for her throat, he
yelled, "You're behind this, you old witch."
Before he could reach the cringing woman, Matt
grabbed him and spun him around. For a moment
Emery glared blindly at the man who had robbed him.
Then, uttering an animallike sound, he threw himself at
Matt, his head boring for his stomach. Matt stepped
aside, and his rock-hard fist smashed between the redrimmed eyes. There came the sound of crunching
bones, and blood splattered the floor.
Emery hit the floor hard, shaking his head dazedly.
Matt squatted down beside him. Catching the whiskered jaws in a viselike grip, he jerked Emery's head
around and glared into the fear-filled eyes. "Listen to
me good, you old bastard. I'm takin' Marna, and
there's nothin' you can do about it. And if I ever hear
that you've laid a hand on Hertha, I'll come back and
take her away, too." He released the blood-streaming
face and stood up. "You think on my words. With her
gone, you'll have no one to sponge off of."
Matt turned to Hertha. "Is the girl ready, Grandma?"
A jubilant gleam in her eyes, Hertha hurried to
Marna's room.
She returned almost immediately, Marna behind her.
Her doe eyes swimming in tears, reluctant and afraid,
she clutched a small bundle of clothes. For the second
time pity for her ran through Matt.
Stubbornly he thrust the soft feeling from him and looked away. He didn't want to have any kind of feeling for this strange girl.
Hertha kissed Marna good-bye, and Matt and his
new wife left for the camp that would be Marna's new
home.
It was not a happy pair who took the trail to Matt's
camp. There was utter silence between them, each busy
with his own thoughts.
Matt visualized the amusement that would creep into
the hunters' eyes when he introduced this girl as his
wife. They would remember how particular he was
about the women he lay with, always insisting that they
be clean and attractive. God, how they would snicker
behind his back.
He shook his head in puzzlement Why did old
Hertha let Marna go around dirty and yet keep clean
clothing on her? For instance, the dress she wore now.
It was worn thin and patched in a dozen places but was
scrupulously clean and ironed smooth.
He shook his head again. Those two were certainly a
pair.
Marna's thoughts were on the new life ahead. What
would it be like? Would she be able to take proper care
of a husband? Did she cook well enough, sew well
enough?
She decided that she could. Grandma had said many
times that she was a good cook and handled a needle
well. And Grandma never lied.
About the other side of marriage, she knew she
needn't worry. Her husband would never take her into
his bed. Still, she wondered what it would be like to rest
her head on his shoulder, how it would feel to lie in his
arms. At that thought she blushed crimson.
The stallion gave a lurch as it stepped on a loose
rock. Marna grabbed at the saddle, afraid to throw her arms around her husband's back. If she were to be that
bold, he might make her get down and walk.
After a few miles of riding around ravines and large
boulders, the mount started a descent into a shadowy
hollow. Marna heard the rush of water before they
rounded a bend and saw the river. She gave a small
exclamation of pleasure at the beauty of the clear running water.
On the opposite side of the river the wilderness grew
to its very edge. Great trees stretched branches over it,
shading its depths at all times. Big, shiny trout lay
there, waiting to be caught and placed in a frying pan.
On the side of the river where the hunters camped,
there was a small clearing about fifty feet in diameter.
In this hollowed-out spot lush grass grew among the
scattered boulders. The hunters' horses grazed
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