CHAPTER XIX
CONCERNING SAM MCKEE
Webb was building biscuits and Hepburn was slicing a steak from the hind quarter of a carcass that a few days before had been an HC steer. McKee entered with an armful of wood. He dropped it into the box beside the stove with a clatter and went out again. He was whistling a doleful little tune, as a preoccupied man will whistle. His gray eyes were peculiarly grim and when he stopped whistling, his mouth set into determined lines.
"What's got into him?" Webb asked.
The other shrugged his shoulders.
"He's changed in the last day or two. Wouldn't think he was the same man," Webb went on. "Do you think there's a chance...."
It was unnecessary to finish the question for there was only one subject that these men discussed which called for the cautious tone which Webb had adopted. Hepburn chuckled scornfully.
"Hell, no!" he said. "Sam's the last one to double-cross us, 'specially when Beck's on th' other side.
"Somethin's got into him all right, but it ain't anything to hurt us. He's changed."
"You know how he used to be, Dad, kind of a bully, always lookin' for trouble. Well, it wasn't that he was quarrelsome like most mean men are. It was because he was afraid to be any other way. That was what made him abuse his horse that time; the pony had put a crimp in Sam an' th' only way Sam could work up his nerve to get aboard was to work him over unmerciful.