“He's a trump, that boy!” continued Holden. “Why, if it hadn't been for him, there'd been an end of Jack Holden yesterday.”
“Herbert told me about it. It was indeed a tragic affair. The sacrifice of life is deplorable, but seemed to have been necessary, unless, indeed, you could have disabled him.”
“Disabled him!” echoed the hunter. “That wouldn't have answered by a long shot. As soon as the reptile got well he'd have been on my trail ag'in. No, sir; it was my life or his, and I don't complain of the way things turned out.”
“Have you buried him?” asked Herbert.
“Yes, I've shoved him under, and it's better than he deserved, the sneakin' rascal. I'm glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Melville. Didn't know I had changed neighbors till the boy there told me yesterday. I've tramped over this mornin' to give you a call.”
“You are very kind, Mr. Holden. Sit down here beside us.”
“I'm more at home here,” answered Holden, stretching himself on the ground, and laying his gun beside him. “How do you like Colorado?”
“Very much, as far as I have seen it,” said Melville. “Herbert probably told you my object, in coming here?”
“He said you were ailin' some way.”
“Yes, my lungs are weak. Since I have been here, I am feeling better and stronger, however.”