He looked at her questioningly.
“I mean the Governor’s declaration yesterday morning that he would pay you twice what you expected to get out of it if you would save Jerry’s life.”
“Oh, that!” said he, as if he attached little importance to it.
“He’s a millionaire many times over,” she reminded him. “He can afford to do it, and he should.”
“I may be out of the case entirely before night,” he told her, explaining that another physician would arrive on the first train from Cheyenne.
“You know best,” said she, resigning hope for his big fee with a sigh.
“Smith will come over with your tent and goods today, very likely,” said he, “and then we can leave. I had planned it all along, from the time we used to take those moonlight walks to the river, that we should leave this country together when it came our time to go.”
“It would be wrong for you to waste your life here, even if you could make more money than elsewhere, when the world with more people and more pain in it needs you so badly,” she encouraged him. 333
“Just so,” he agreed. “It’s very well for Smith to stay here, and men of his kind, who have no broader world. They are doing humanity a great service in smoothing the desert and bringing the water into it.”
“We will leave it to them,” she said.