Bat nodded.
"That's queer," he said. "I guessed you'd answer that way."
"Why?"
Bat folded his arms across his broad chest.
"You're young," he replied.
Bull laughed again.
"Better say it," he cried. "An' darn foolish."
"No, I hadn't that in mind. No, Bull. If I had your years I guess I'd feel that way, too. I wonder—"
"You're guessing to know who I'd marry, eh?" Bull's pipe was knocked out into the cuspidore. Then he sat up again and his eyes were full of reckless delight. "Here," he cried, "I guess it's mostly school-kids who shout the things they reckon to do—or a fool man. It doesn't matter. Maybe I'm both. Anyway, I'm just crazy for—for—"
"Red hair, an'—an' a pair of mighty pretty eyes?"