"Do I hear you right? Are you taking water, Harrigan?"
Harrigan bowed his head, praying mutely for strength to endure.
"Don't say it!" pleaded McTee. "I've hunted the world and worn the roads bare looking for one man who could stand up to me—and now that I've found him, he turns yellow inside!"
And he looked upon the Irishman with a sick horror, as if the big fellow were turning into a reptile before his eyes. On the face of Harrigan there was an expression like that of the starving man whom the fear of poison induces to push away food.
"There's no word I can speak to you, McTee. You could never understand.
Go back to the girl. Maybe she'll explain."
"The girl?"
At the wild hope in that voice Harrigan shuddered, and he could not look up.
"Harrigan, what do you mean?"
"Don't ask me. Leave me alone, McTee."
"Here's a mystery," said the Scotchman, "and our little party is postponed. The date is changed, that's all. Remember!"