"Rhinehart's a fool and so are the rest of them. Have you gone loco too, Haines, to let a girl come here?"
"Where's the harm?"
"Why, damn it, she's marked every man here."
"I let her in because she is trying to get hold of Whistling Dan."
"Which no fool girl c'n take that feller off the trail. Nothin' but lead can do that."
"I tell you," said Haines, "the boy's in love with her. I watched them at Morgan's place. She can twist him around her finger."
A faint light broke the gloom of Silent's face.
"Yaller hair an' blue eyes. They c'n do a lot. Maybe you're right.
What's that?" His voice had gone suddenly husky.
A russet moon pushed slowly up through the trees. Its uncertain light fell across the clearing. For the first time the thick pale smoke of the fire was visible, rising straight up until it cleared the tops of the willows, and then caught into swift, jagging lines as the soft wind struck it. A coyote wailed from the distant hills, and before his complaint was done another sound came through the hushing of the willows, a melancholy whistling, thin with distance.
"We'll see if that's the man you want," suggested Haines.