The rest of the men chuckled and even Kilduff smiled.
"Old Joe Cumberland is sure takin' it hard," said "Calamity"
Rhinehart. "All day he's been lightin' into the girl."
"The funny part," mused Purvis, "is that the old boy really means it.
I think he'd of sawed off his right hand to keep her from goin' to
Whistlin' Dan."
"An' her sittin' white-faced an' starin' at nothin' an' tryin' to comfort him!" rumbled Kilduff, standing up under the stress of his unwonted emotion. "My God, she was apologizin' for what she done, an' tryin' to cheer him up, an' all the time her heart was bustin'."
He pulled out a violently coloured bandana and wiped his forehead.
"When we all get down to hell," he said, "they'll be quite a little talkin' done about this play of Jim's—you c'n lay to that."
"Who's that singin' down the canyon?" asked Jordan. "It sounds like—"
He would not finish his sentence as if he feared to prove a false prophet. They rose as one man and stared stupidly at one another.
"Haines!" broke out Rhinehart at last.
"It ain't no ways possible!" said Kilduff. "And yet—by God, it is!"