“I don’t know,” Donald admitted dully.
“How much money have you got?”
Donald stood up and drew from his pocket a few crumpled bills and some loose change, then threw out his arms in an eloquent gesture. As he stood with the slanting rays of a late December sun shining on his black hair, he presented a wonderful specimen of man. Six feet in height, of a deceptive slenderness, his rather tight-fitting grey suit set off the graceful lines of a supple body. His shoulders were wide, with the gentle slope that denotes agility as well as strength. His fine white skin and long black lashes would have given his features an effeminate touch but for the manly mould of his face, with its square jaw, broad forehead, and deep, wide-set eyes.
The sheriff’s appraising eyes glowed with admiration as they rested on the young man. To the casual eye Donald appeared of slight build, but his old friend knew of the steel-like muscles of those arms and the strength of the long, straight legs.
The mind of the older man flashed back to a football game in Donald’s High School days, with the State championship at stake. Donald had been sent into the game at the eleventh hour, and with defeat staring the home team in the face he had torn through the opposing lines like a madman for agonizing gains until his dark head flashed across the line to victory.
Donald came embarrassedly to his feet.
“Well, I guess I’ll be moving.”
“Here, boy, take this,” the sheriff said awkwardly, thrusting a roll of bills into Donald’s hand.
The young man’s face flushed. “It’s awfully good of you, Jim, but I——”
“It’s all right, Don,” interrupted the older man, summoning a smile. “I’m just giving you a loan.”