'Poleon was at a loss for an answer; he made no secret of his anxiety.
"De doctor say she mus' stay right here—"
"HERE?"
"He say if she get cold once more—pouf! She die lak dat! Plenty fire, plenty blanket, medicine every hour, dat's all. I'm prayin' for come along some woman—any kin' of woman at all—I don' care if she's squaw."
"There ain't any skirts back of us. Best's outfit was the last to leave
Linderman. There won't be any more till after the freeze-up."
"Eh bien! Den I s'pose I do de bes' I can. She's poor seeck gal in beeg, cold countree wit' no frien's, no money—"
"No money?" Broad was startled. "Why, Sam was 'fat'! He had a bank-roll—"
"He lose five t'ousan' dollar' playin' card las' night. Less 'n eighty dollar' dey lef' him. Eighty dollar' an'—dis." From the pocket of his mackinaw 'Poleon drew Kirby's revolver, that famous single-action six-shooter, the elaborate ivory grip of which was notched in several places. Broad and his partner eyed the weapon with intense interest.
"That's Agnes, all right!" the former declared. "And that's where old Sam kept his books." He ran his thumb-nail over the significant file-marks on the handle. "Looks like an alligator had bit it."
Bridges was even more deeply impressed by the announcement of Kirby's losses than was his partner. "Sam must of been easy pickin', drunk like that. He was a gamblin' fool when he was right, but I s'pose he couldn't think of nothin' except fresh meat for Agnes. Letty had him tagged proper, and I bet she'd of saved him if she hadn't of gone off her nut. D'you think she's got a chance?"
"For get well?" 'Poleon shrugged his wide shoulders. "De doctor say it's goin' be hard pull. He's goin' stay so long he can, den—wal, mebbe 'noder doctor come along. I hope so."