The Odds

Dot Burton's announcement of her desire to go out into the world and hew a way for herself came as no surprise to her brother, Jack. He knew Dot was restless and far from happy, and he knew his own marriage had left her feeling unsettled. Dot had been thrown upon his care years before, when the death of their parents had made her his dependent. His love for her was of a deep, almost maternal nature -- and he hated the thought of parting. He had hoped his wife Adela would have been a joy to Dot, and was intensely disappointed it was proving otherwise.

There was someone else to think of, too. There was Fletcher Hill -- a tall man, tough and muscular, with black hair tinged with grey, and a long stubborn jaw that gave him an indomitable look. He was a magistrate of some repute in the district. And Jack knew he was coming calling soon, out of friendship for Jack -- and out of a different feeling, for the fearful Dot.

"If he comes my way I'll shoot him!" said Dot Burton- her blue eyes gleaming in her boyish tanned face. "I'm not such a bad shot am I Jack?"