"He broke his leg, Ben."
"Whee—ee—" he whistled, through his teeth. "How, now?"
Ann told him the story, as she had told it to Sue.
"An' Garvin up an' shot him—I can jest see him at it," Ben muttered, more to himself than to Ann.
"It was better than having the poor thing suffer," Ann declared with some warmth.
Ben shook his head in a non-committal way. But he did not take up his work. He looked down, still shaking his head.
Bear Brokaw had solved many problems for Ann; he had reasons for most things. She changed her tone. "Why did he do like that, Ben? I wondered why?"
"'Cause he couldn't help it."
"You don't mean—because he liked doing it?" Ann asked; Baird's remark had clung to her memory.
Ben looked up quickly. "Why you askin' that, Ann?"