Mary lifted her shoulders in a resigned shrug.
‘I give up, Joe,’ she said in disgust. ‘You make a mess of everything you handle.’
‘For crying out aloud!’ Joe said, his face turning red, ‘How was I to know?’
‘Never mind; but you better do something about it.’
‘Yeah.’ He pulled a face, glared at me. ‘Jeepers! It means walking back to that damned mine again. Can you look after this fella?’
She nodded.
‘I’ll take care of him. You’d better hurry, Joe.’
‘Want my gun?’
She took the heavy .45 and balanced it in her hand.
‘Get going, Joe.’