Orde--" she began.
"We didn't rightly understand each other," Bob reassured her. "That was
all."
"Did she-all refuse you coffee onct?" asked Ward. "What yo' palaverin'
about?"
"She isn't refusing to make me some now," said Bob.
He spent the night comfortably with his new friends who a few months ago
had been ready to murder him. The next morning early, supplied with an
ample lunch, he set out. Ward offered him a riding horse, but he
declined.
"I'd have to send it back," said he, "and, anyway, I'd neither want to
borrow your saddle nor ride bareback. I'd rather walk."
The old man accompanied him to the edge of the clearing.
"By the way," Bob mentioned, as he said farewell, "if some one asks you,
just tell them you haven't seen me."
The old man stopped short.
"What-for a man?" he asked.
"Any sort."
A frosty gleam crept into the old Missourian's eye.
"I'll keep hands off," said he. He strode on twenty feet. "I got an
extra gun--" said he.
"Thanks," Bob interrupted. "But I'll get organized better when I get
home."
"Hope you git him," said the old man by way of farewell.
Pages:
826
827
828
829
830
831
832
833
834
835
836
837
838
839
840
841
842
843
844
845
846
847
848
849
850