“Oh, I’m all right,” Dick smiled, shaking his shoulders and squaring himself as if gathering himself together. “It did hit me hard for the moment. I hadn’t a doubt in the world but Jeremy would make it out all right. But they got him, and two engineers with him. They put up a devil of a fight first. They got under a cliff and stood off a mob of half a thousand for a day and night. And then the Mexicans tossed dynamite down from above. Oh, well, all flesh is grass, and there is no grass of yesteryear. Terrence, your suggestion is a good one. Lead on.”
After a few steps he turned his head over his shoulder and called back: “Now this isn’t to stop the fun. I’ll be right back to take that photograph. You arrange the group, Ernestine, and be sure to have them under the strongest light.”
Terrence pressed open the concealed buffet at the far end of the room and set out the glasses, while Dick turned on a wall light and studied his face in the small mirror inside the buffet door.
“It’s all right now, quite natural,” he announced.
“’Twas only a passing shade,” Terrence agreed, pouring the whiskey. “And man has well the right to take it hard the going of old friends.”
They toasted and drank silently.
“Another one,” Dick said, extending his glass.
“Say ‘when,’” said the Irishman, and with imperturbable eyes he watched the rising tide of liquor in the glass.
Dick waited till it was half full.
Again they toasted and drank silently, eyes to eyes, and Dick was grateful for the offer of all his heart that he read in Terrence’s eyes.