Ten days later Winnie the Weeper and Slim held between them a dirty scrap of paper, on which was penciled:
“cole told me he was going east to see what it was al about that i told him about.
“the Whimperer.”
“Goin’ East, is he? Goin’ East, hey!” growled Slim, as the girl looked expectantly up into his pale-blue eyes. “Well, he’ll not go East, take it from me, kid! Now I know wot to do. An’ I’ll do it, too! But no East for us, Win, until spring—that settles that. I was thinkin’ maybe Tony was settled over dere on his claim an’ you an’ me could beat it as soon as winter set in an’ take a chance. But De Whimperer has spilt de beans—an’ now Tony’s t’inkin’ he’ll beat it East. Oh, wait’ll I get me mitts on De Whimperer!”
“You—you won’t kill Cole, then, Slim? That means you won’t, don’t it? Slim, I—I don’t like that kinda business. I may be a sportin’ girl and a crook, and all that, but I couldn’t stand to have you bump that guy off.”
“No, I won’t bump um,” Slim promised. “But if I don’t it means we gotta winter it out here in these dam’ mountains, Win. An’ stay clear up till the fifteent’ of June.”
“I guess I’d rather do that, Slim,” she told him, “than have you bump a guy off. But, God, I’m sick o’ this hick country!”
“All right, kiddo—youse’re de doctor. But Cole won’t go East—take dat from me! I know how to stop um!”
Shanty Madge was adorable in overalls and a carpenter’s apron with nail pockets in it. And on the right leg of her overalls was a stout band of self material, as the garment advertisers would say, in which to hang her hammer when she used a saw or other tool. The hammer hung pretty low and was bothersomely heavy, but Madge used the strap religiously. But she told Joshua in confidence that pins tasted better in the mouth than nails.