Standing answered roughly: "And what do I care? Serve you right for the fool you are!"
"Now, he's here," said Winch. "Look here, Timber: you can take your time talking to him. Let me look you over. I want to see that second bullet hole."
"Winch, you idiot," Standing growled at him; "I got it close to a week ago. I've tended to it myself; it's all right. I don't look like a dying man, do I?"
"Señor!" Joe was crying, down on the ground now, tremendously excited.
"Are you usin' my salve?" demanded Winch. "Plenty of it, night and morning?"
"I have been using it...."
"And you're out of it now!" With a triumphant flourish Winch dipped into a pocket and extracted a small package. "Here you are, Timber! And this is extra special! I got all the ingredients this time; tried it out day before yesterday on that new pinto pony you bought from Ferguson; got cut in the wire fence down by the pasture. Say, it works like magic...."
Standing groaned. "Winch, some fine day I'll carve you all up with a hand-axe, just to give you a chance to use your own filthy mess...."
"I wouldn't have been shy a leg, would I, if that fool doctor had had a pint of this?"
"Señor!" Joe was crying. "You got to listen; you got to hear what I goin' tell you! My gold, my gold that I find, me, myself, all alone...."