The girl wept silently while the father raged up and down.

His mood frightened her.
"I thought you had more sense than t' take up with such a dirty houn'." "He ain't a houn'," she blazed forth, "and he's just as good and clean as you are." "Shut up! Don't let me hear another word out o' your head.

I'm boss here yet, I reckon." Lime came out with his valise in his hand.
"Good-by, Merry," he said cheerily.

She started to go to him, but her father's rough grasp held her.
"Set _down_, an' stay there." Lime was going out of the gate.
"Here! Come and get y'r money," yelled the old man, extending some bills.

"Here's twenty"-- --- "Go to thunder with your money," retorted Lime.