Ponatah opened her lips, but no sound issued. She possessed a strong young body, but the strength, the life, seemed suddenly to go out of it, leaving her old and spiritless.
"Got a kind word for us?" the man inquired, with a twinkle.
"I'm glad you struck it rich," she murmured, dully. "You—you'll take care of yourself, Billy?"
"Who, me? I don't s'pose so. I don't know how to take care of nothing." There was a moment of silence. "Like me?" he asked.
Ponatah turned away blindly, but as she did so Laughing Bill put his hand gently upon her shoulder, saying:
"Cheer up, Kid. You're going to join the troupe. I've come to get you."
There was amazement, incredulity, in the girl's face as she lifted it to his. "What do you—mean?" she quavered. "Are you going to—marry me?"
"You guessed it!" he laughed. "I been aiming to put up that job on you for a long time, but I had a lot of deals on my hands. I was a sort of power-of-attorney for a coupla simps, and it kept me busy. If you think the two of us can do with three lungs, why, we'll grab a psalm-shouter and—"
"Billy! Billy!" Ponatah clung to him fiercely, hungrily. "Oh,
Billy—I'll make you well. We'll go to Arizona, Colorado,
Montana—where it is high and dry—"
"I been to them places," he told her, dubiously, "and I 'most stopped breathing altogether."