“Wal, I’m sure sorry, and there ain’t a guy in these parts who ain’t sorry too.”
Jim shrugged his big shoulders and jerked out his chin.
“Maybe there ain’t one more sorry than yours truly.”
“What!”
“Jest that.”
“It’s junk you’re talking.”
Jim smiled whimsically.
“Nope, it’s God’s truth. I didn’t figure it all out till I came here. I wish I hadn’t sold out. I guess I’m best fitted for running mines or herding cattle, Dan. And I’m leaving all the boys who know me for those who don’t—and I don’t git on with folks who don’t know me. God knows what persuaded me to sell to that macaroni-eating swab. But it’s done, and there ain’t no manner of good wailing about it.”
Dan laughed lugubriously.