“Oh, no, no, no!” she hastened to assure him, at the same time letting her hand rest upon his.

But this explanation did not satisfy Sonora.  Anxious to discover what she had at heart he went on sounding: 

“Tired of us?  Ain’t we got style enough for you?”

The Girl did not answer; her breathing, swift and short, painfully intensified the hush that had fallen on the room; at last, the boys becoming impatient began to bombard her with questions.

“Be you goin’ to show them Ridge boys we’ve petered out an’ culture’s a dead dog here?” began Happy, rising.

“Do you want them to think Academy’s busted?” asked Handsome.

“Ain’t we your boys no more?” put in Trinidad, wistfully.

“Ain’t I your boy?” asked Sonora, sentimentally.  “Why, what is it, Girl?  Has anybody—­tell me—­perhaps—­”

The Girl raised her head and dried her eyes; when she spoke one could have heard a pin drop.

“Oh, no, no, no,” she said with averted face, and added tremulously:  “There, we won’t say no more about it.  Let’s forgit it.  Only when I go away I want to leave the key o’ my cabin with Old Sonora here, an’ I want you all to come up sometimes, an’ to think o’ me as the girl who loved you all, an’ sometimes is wishin’ you well, an’ I want to think o’ little Nick here runnin’ my bar an’ not givin’ the boys too much whisky.”  Her words died away in a sob and her head fell forward, her hand, the while, resting upon Nick’s shoulder.

At last, Sonora saw what lay beneath her tears; the situation was all too clear to him now.

“Hold on!” he cried hoarsely.  “There’s jest one reason for the Girl to leave her home an’ friends—­only one:  There must be some fellow away from here that she—­that she likes better ’n she does any of us.”  And turning once more upon the Girl, he demanded excitedly:  “Is that it?  Speak!”

The Girl raised her tear-stained face and looked him in the eye.

“Likes—­” she repeated with a world of meaning in her voice—­“in a different way, yes.”

“Well, so help me!” ejaculated Happy, unhappily, while Sonora, with head bent low, went over to his seat.

The next moment the boys of the front rows had joined those of the rear and were grouping themselves together to discuss the situation.

“Sure you ain’t makin’ a mistake?” Trinidad questioned suddenly.

The Girl came down from her seat on the platform and went over to them.

“Mistake,” she repeated dreamily.  “Oh, no, no, no, boys, there’s no mistake about this.  Oh, Trin!” she burst out tearfully, and two soft arms crept gently about his neck.  “An’ Sonora—­Ah, Sonora!” She raised herself on her tiny toes and kissed him on the left cheek.

The next instant she was gone.

XVII.

Whatever may be said to the contrary, there are few more humiliating moments in a man’s life than when he learns that some other person has supplanted him in the affections of his adored one.  And it was the Girl’s knowledge of this, together with her desire to spare the feelings of her two old admirers,—­for in her nature there was ever that thoughtfulness of others which never permitted her to do a mean thing to anyone,—­that had caused her to flee so precipitously from the room.