McLean sat passive, with dazed eyes, letting himself be supported.
“You're not hurt?” repeated Barker.
“No,” answered the cow-puncher, slowly. “I guess not.” He looked about the room and at the door. “I got interrupted,” he said.
“You'll be all right soon,” said Barker.
“Nobody cares for me!” cried Lusk, suddenly, and took to querulous weeping.
“Get up,” ordered Barker, sternly.
“Don't accuse me, Governor,” screamed Lusk. “I'm innocent.” And he rose.
Barker looked at the woman and then at the husband. “I'll not say there was much chance for her,” he said. “But any she had is gone through you. She'll die.”
“Nobody cares for me!” repeated the man. “He has learned my boy to scorn me.” He ran out aimlessly, and away into the night, leaving peace in the room.
“Stay sitting,” said Barker to McLean, and went to Mrs. Lusk.