“I don’t remember any names. Just folks we met there in the Monaco and another dance place we went into.”
“All seem to be well-dressed, up-to-date folks?”
“Yes. Look here, judge, there ain’t no reason to go ringing her or her friends in on a mess of trouble like this. Her folks are kinda old-fashioned and don’t like her to go round to dance halls where it’s lively——”
“Lots of old folks are that a way. Did you say they were father and mother both?”
“I didn’t say. I don’t know as I ever heard her mention. What difference does it make? I didn’t find her tonight.”
“That’s so; so you didn’t. Well, I’m sorry to leave you here, son, but I’ve got to. We’ll be doing all we can.”
“A habeas corpus and reasonable bail and——” Curly began, but Campbell shook his head.
“This ain’t Texas. Up in this country they don’t fix reasonable bail for homicide. But keep smilin’. Your friends are all on the job—especially Millie.”
“Say, judge,” said the cowboy with some embarrassment. “I been kinda foolish, maybe. These new folks I met are right nice folks, but I didn’t really—— I don’t s’pose anything can be done to square it, but sitting here I’ve been thinking that our own kind o’ folks is our own kind o’ folks. If Millie could sort o’ forgive——”
“Curly,” said the older man, “Millie’s daddy and me were friends as long as he lived—such good friends that she’s been callin’ me ‘uncle’ ever since she was old enough to talk. I aim, when she gets married, to do anythin’ an old-timer like me can do to see she gets a fairish sort of husband.