Pierre stirred uneasily in his saddle. A man must be well over thirty before he can withstand ridicule.
He said dryly: "I've an idea that I know Jack about as well as the next man."
"Let it drop," said Wilbur, sober again, for he shared with all of Boone's crew a deep-rooted unwillingness to press Red Pierre beyond a certain point. "The one subject I won't quarrel about is Jack, God bless her."
"She's the best pal," said Pierre soberly, "and the nearest to a man I've ever met."
"Nearest to a man?" queried Wilbur, and smiled, but so furtively that even the sharp eye of Red Pierre did not perceive the mockery. He went on:
"But the dance, what of that? It's a masquerade. There'd be no fear of being recognized."
Pierre was silent a moment more. Then he said:
"This girl—what did you call her?"
"Mary."
"And about her hair—I think you said it was black?"