"—the theater, and I don't suppose you can see her until to-morrow."
Disappointment darkened his face.
"Besides," Kink added, gloomily, "when you quit her like a dog I slicked myself up some, and I ain't anyways sure she'll care to see you now—only jest as a friend of mine. Notice I've cut my whiskers, don't you?"
We made Monty pay for that instant's hesitation, the last he ever had, and then I said:
"You walk up the river trail for a quarter of a mile and wait. If I can persuade her to come out at this hour I'll send her to you. No, you couldn't find her. She's moved since you left."
"I wouldn't gamble none on her meetin' you," Martin said, discouragingly, and combed out his new-mown beard with ostentation.
She was up the moment I knocked, and when I said that a man needed help I heard her murmur sympathetically as she dressed. When we came to our tent I stopped her.
"He's up yonder a piece," said I. "You run along while I fetch Kink and the medicine-kit. We'll overtake you."
"Is it anything serious?"
"Yes, it's apt to be unless you hurry. He seems to think he needs you pretty badly."