Instead of speaking Dan jumped to his feet and commenced pacing up and down, up and down, a rapid, tireless stride; at his heels the wolf slunk, with lowered head and tail. The strange fellow was in some great trouble, Calder could see, and it stirred him mightily to know that the wild man had turned to him for help. Yet he would ask no questions.
When in doubt the cattleman rolls a cigarette, and that was what
Calder did. He smoked and waited. At last the inevitable came.
"How old are you, Tex?"
"Forty-four."
"That's a good deal. You ought to know something."
"Maybe."
"About women?"
"Ah!" said Calder.
"Bronchos is cut out chiefly after one pattern," went on Dan.
"They's chiefly jest meanness. Are women the same—jest cut after one pattern?"