He would never call, and he knew it. He merely left the matter thus to establish a species of ownership that Barger must acknowledge. There is law of the State, and law of God, and law of man to man. The latter it was that concerned Van Buren now, and upon it he was acting.
Laboriously, weakly, Barger arose to his feet. He looked at Van peculiarly, with a strange light dully firing in his eyes.
"I agree to that," he answered slowly. "I agree to that."
He put out his hand to shake—to bind his agreement. It was almost like offering his oath.
Van took it, and gave it his usual grip.
"So long, Barger," he said. "I reckon you need these boots."
He waved his hand loosely at the boots that lay upon the ground, went at once to his horse, and mounted to his seat.
"The regular ford of this river's down below," he added to the speechless convict, standing there gaunt and wondering upon the marge. "So long."
Barger said nothing. Van rode away on the trail by the stream, and was presently gone, around the bend.