“Ye had er plumb tough time, Buffler,” commiserated Nomad, his eyes on the two wrists and the red-stained manacles.
“One of the roughest times I ever had, Nick,” returned the scout in a low tone.
“I reckoned yer arm would be pulled off’n yer body.”
“So did I.”
“If I could have released myself,” cried Dell, “I would have done so.”
“And lost your life, pard,” said the scout, “while now it has been saved. We’ll both get over the effects of that experience in due time. I wonder how long it lasted?”
“Et couldn’t hev been more’n five minits,” said Nomad.
“Five minutes! It seemed like five years. Is my hair white, Nick?”
“Nary, Buffler. Et’s ther same color et allers was. Why don’t ye take ’em off?” and the trapper indicated the handcuffs.