"He don't forget nothing," Bill assured her, "and if he does I'll see that he don't."
After they had gone Ponatah stood motionless for a long time, then she whispered, breathlessly:
"Children! Little white children! I'll be very good to them."
"She's a classy quilt," Laughing Bill said, on the way back to the road-house.
"She's as pretty as a picture, and little more than a child," the doctor admitted.
"You made a hit. She'd do 'most anything for you." The doctor muttered, absent-mindedly. "She's stood off Petersen and these red-necks, but she'd fall for you." Mr. Hyde was insinuating.
Thomas halted; he stared at his partner curiously, coldly. "Say! Do you think that's why I offered to help her?" he inquired.
"Come clean!" The invalid winked meaningly. "You're a long ways from home, and I've knew fellers to do a lot worse. You can grab her, easy. And if you do—"
Thomas grunted angrily. "I've put up with a lot from you," he said, then he strode on.
"And if you do," the other resumed, falling into step with him, "I'll bust you right where you're thickest."