"Ophelia don't need it," Old Heck said hastily, "she's a widow and has done been—"
"Widows are th' worst," the Ramblin' Kid drawled; "they've had experience an' don't like to give it up."
"Th' Ramblin' Kid's right," Chuck broke in. "I read a book once that said that's the way they are. It's up to Old Heck or Parker to represent Cupid to the widow—"
"Who the hell's Cupid?" Skinny asked curiously.
"He's a dangerous little outlaw that ain't got no reg'lar range," the
Ramblin' Kid answered for Chuck.
"I'll not do it—" Old Heck and Parker spoke at once.
"Then I won't either," Skinny declared flatly, "I'll quit the dog-goned
Quarter Circle KT first!"
"Let Sing Pete make love to the widow," Bert suggested.
"No, no! Me busy cookee," Sing Pete, who had been listening from the open doorway, jabbered and darted, frightened, back into the house.
"Anyhow I'd kill him if he did," the Ramblin' Kid said softly; "no darned Chink can make love to a white woman, old, young or indifferent, in my presence an' live!"