"Billy Windover saved me once like—like that," said Bean, his eyes fixed on the foaming water.
"Billy Windover? Wasn't that the cowboy who was shot down near the Cypress Hills a couple of months ago?"
Bean nodded. "Billy an' me was chums—the best chums in the world, I guess, pretty near. Me and him was raised together—down in Indiany. Our farms was close together, an' Billy an' me played Injun an' pirate an' stage robber together when we was knee high to a grasshopper.... We grew up together.... We loved the same gal.... He licked me and won. We fought it out on the banks of a deep stream that cut through both farms—in the woods—an' the licked one was to drown himself.... He pulled me out...."
He lifted himself higher and drew one hand angrily across his eyes.
"The gal she turned out bad ... and Billy went a bit wild.... I went with Billy. We broke out in Montany. Billy was a reckless cuss, an' he got in bad with the sheriffs and flitted over here. I came as soon's I got the chance.... And—and now he's—he's pulled out an' left me—alone."
"He was murdered, I understand," said Stamford.
Bean's face darkened, and his sunken eyes glared.
"Damned sight wuss 'n that! Shot down without a chance in the dark. Dirty cuss who did it's goin' to settle with me."
"If you ever find who it was."
"Why——" Bean's eyes peered out furtively beneath his shaggy brows, and he said no more.