He liked the little woman, but he could see where she had been a great disadvantage to Jim.
But Diana's voice as she said, "A mother and a wife—that's a good deal, Bill," made him realize that perhaps he was not doing the Indian girl justice. He could see the tears in Diana's eyes as she spoke. "And her boy goes back home with us."
Bill rose. "Kind of tough on yours truly, lady, bein' as Hal and me are kind of side-partners, but then I got to recollect it's the best for the kid. That's about the size of it, ain't it?" This time it was Bill who solicited comfort from Diana. The thought of the child's leaving them had been a difficult proposition for the boys, and they had discussed it long and excitedly when Jim told them the plan the night before.
Diana understood. "It involves a lot of suffering all around, doesn't it, Bill? But it seems to me Nat-u-ritch gets the worst of it."
True to his opinion of the red race, Bill answered, "She's an Injin—used to takin' things as they come," and he hardly heard Diana's words:
"Poor little savage!"
This lady had appealed to him—why shouldn't he ask her advice? It was all very well for him to have frightened the Sheriff into leaving the place, all very well to appear sanguine and hopeful while the boss stood near him, but in his heart he knew he was afraid. Something in the shifting, malicious look of Bud Hardy's eyes as he left the place told Bill that there might still be trouble. Twisting the rim of his big hat nervously, he said:
"Say, miss, you got a lawyer in your party, 'ain't you?" Diana turned to listen to him. "Oh, but pshaw!" he went on, trying to reassure himself even while he spoke the disquieting words. "It 'll never get to the lawyer, cause Jim 'll never let him arrest her—never!"
"Arrest her!" Diana exclaimed, in surprise.
Bill explained. "Nat-u-ritch. The Sheriff thinks he can prove she killed Cash Hawkins—that day you were at Maverick."