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Bower, B. M., 1871-1940

"The Uphill Climb"


She shook her head. "Is it--pretty steep?" she ventured after a moment,
and glanced down at the jug.
He looked puzzled at first, but when his own glance followed hers, he
understood. He stared up at her somberly before he let his head drop
back upon his arms, so that his face was once more hidden.
"You've never been in bell, I suppose," he told her, and his voice was
dull and tired. After a minute he looked up at her impatiently. "Is it
fun to stand and watch a man--What do you want, anyway? It doesn't
matter--to you."
"Are you sure?" she retorted sharply. "And--suppose it doesn't. I have
Kate to think of, at least."
He gave a little laugh that came nearer being a snort. "Oh, if that's
all, you needn't worry. I'm not quite that far gone, thank you!"
"I was thinking of the ranch, and of her ideals, and her blind trust in
you, and of the effect on the men," she explained impatiently.
He was silent a moment. "I'm thinking of myself!" he told her grimly
then.
"And--don't you ever--think of me?" She set her teeth sharply together
after the words were out, and watched him, breathing quickly.


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