Sawdy raised his chin: "Not this time, Jim. Not on your life. That's the way you always eat my supper."
"You eat too much, Henry—it will kill you some time," observed Laramie, losing no time in his initiative. He ignored Sawdy's stare and the big man, disgusted, sat dumb: "Don't surrender, Sawdy," counseled Laramie. "Keep going, and excuse me if I seem to begin."
Sawdy paused, his knife and fork firmly in hand, but pointing helplessly into the air: "This is the first square meal I've had for two days," he said, as one whose hopes have been dashed.
"First I've had for ten days," returned Laramie.
"What are they doing up there, Jim?" asked Sawdy peremptorily.
"Killing their horses."
"They won't find him," Sawdy predicted in words inaudible six feet away.
"I hope not."
"How's he holding out?"
"Hard hit, Henry."