“Well, I’ve been thinking that over myself this afternoon. I guess maybe you’re right, at that. Charmian must go on—that’s settled. This is her fool party, and the rest of us are just invited guests. So either Doctor Shonto or Andy will have to stay with me, and the other one go on with Charmian and get the ridiculous thing over with while my ankle’s getting well.”
“Now, neither of you two fellows want to stay with an old battleaxe like me. I know that. Just the same, all alone here in this cold, dark cañon this afternoon, I changed my tune. So you’ll draw straws to see which one is elected. And as I’m the innocent party concerned, I’ll hold the straws. Suit you?”
Her defiant eyes coasted from Shonto to the younger man.
“Certainly,” both made answer. And Andy added, in tones none too strong:
“Nothing could be fairer.”
“All right.” Mary bent over—with difficulty and pain, the doctor noted—and took up from the ground a box of safety matches. She extracted two, closed the box and dropped it, and turned herself slowly on her rocky throne until her back was toward the expectant gamblers. “Got a piece of money, either of you?” she asked.
Andy produced a silver coin.
“Toss it up,” commanded the arbiter of their fortunes. “Heads, the doctor draws first; tails, Andy gets first crack. And the one that draws the long match stays with me. What about it?”
“Suits me,” both men said; and Andy flipped the half-dollar into the air.
“Tails,” he announced as the coin rang on the stones. “I draw first.”