And Dan replied calmly. "He's kind of old, I s'pose."
"Old?" said Buck, with a sort of horror. "Yes, he's old, right enough.
D'you know why he's dying? It's because you went away the way you done,
Dan. That's what's killin' him."
Something of thought came in the face of Barry.
"Maybe I understand," he said slowly. "If I was to lose Satan, or Bart—" here the great dog whined at the mention of his name, and Barry dropped a slender hand across the scarred forehead of his servant. "If I was to lose 'em, I'd sort of mourn for 'em, maybe."
Buck Daniels set his teeth.
"I don't suppose it seems possible," he said, "that a man could miss another man the way you could miss your—dog, eh? But it is! Joe Cumberland is dying for you, Dan, as sure as if you'd put a bullet in his bowels."
The other hesitated and then frowned and made a gesture of vague dismissal.
"Don't you figure on doin' nothing about it?" asked Buck softly.
"What could I do?"
"My God A'mighty, ain't you got no human feelin's?"