She's got mighty good blood in her veins, that girl has; and I don't aim to ever let it be mixed up with none of the low down common yeller kind." The deliberate purpose of the speaker was too evident to be mistaken.

The other man's hand flew to his hip almost before Mr.
Lane had finished his sentence.

But Wash was not quick enough.
Like a flash Jim's hand was withdrawn from inside the hickory shirt, and the giant looked squarely into the muzzle of Jim Lane's ever ready, murderous weapon.
In the same even voice, without the slightest allusion to the unfinished movement of the other, Mr.Lane continued, "I done told you before that my girl would pick her own company, and I ain't never feared for a minute that she'd take up with such as you.
Ollie Stewart ain't so mighty much of a man, maybe, but he's clean, he is, and the stock's pretty good.

Now you can just listen to me, or you can mosey out of that door, and the next time we meet, we will settle it for good, without any further arrangement." As Sammy's father talked, the big figure of his visitor relaxed, and when Jim had finished his slow speech, Wash was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped in front.
"We ain't got no call t' fight, now, Jim," he said in a tone of respect.

"We got something else t' think about; an' that's what I come here fer t'night.