As this brought them no further along the Coffee-colored Angel exclaimed in alarm:
"I say, Dink, will you shake hands?"
Stover gravely extended his right.
Cheyenne next clung to it, blurting out:
"Say, Dink, I wish I could make you understand—just—just how white we think it was!"
The two rushed away leaving Tough McCarty to have his say. Both stood awkwardly, frightened before the possibility of a display of sentiment.
"Look here," said Tough firmly, and then stopped, drew a long breath and continued: "Say, you and I have sort of formed up a sort of vendetta and all that sort of thing, haven't we?"
"We have."
"Now, I'm not going to call that off. I don't suppose you'd want it, either."
"No, I wouldn't!"