"You're as obstinate as ever!" shouts Jabez. "He 's probably out of his head."
"No, he ain't out of his head," sez Monody, in a low, soft voice, but without openin' his eyes more'n a crack.
"He ain't out of his head an' he ain't forgot nothin' he ever knew, an' it'll be better all around if he's allowed to go in peace."
Jabez looked at him in surprise, and Monody scowled up his face till he looked like a wounded Silver Tip, but the' came a queer hunted look into Jabez' eyes for a moment, an' then he muttered, "Well, this is a free country an' I reckon lie has the right to decide. He has sure saved us, an' if the' 's anything on earth I can give him, all lie has to do is to ask for it, an' I hope he pulls through in his own way."
Jabez fidgeted around a minute or two longer an' then he oozed out o' the room. When he'd gone of Monody chuckled a wicked, contented chuckle, an' after a bit he sez, "It's him all right, it's him, but he never did me any harm, an' I wouldn't worry the child, not for worlds. She ought to have a woman around her though. You get old Melisse back, Happy, an' remember—if it ever comes to a question of you or him—just call him George Jordan an' say 'at Jack Whitman wasn't killed "—Monody chuckled again, an' then sobered—"but don't spring it except as a last resort, 'cause the little girl couldn't help nothin' about the Creole Belle, an' she ain't no call to be worried by it. Jim Jimison, he's white, Happy, but he 'd 'a' been killed that trip if you hadn't taken bolt when you did. He's learned the game purty well now, though, an' I reckon he'll make good."
Poor old Monody kept on talkin' disconnected until about midnight, first tellin' some devilish deed he'd seen or took part in, an' then tellin' o' some joke or some act o' kindness. Just at midnight he took my hand, an' the' came a look into his eyes like as if he was about overcome by some beautiful vision; but in a moment he cohered down an' he gripped my hand till it hurt. "Happy," he gasped, "I allus loved ya, Happy. You won't let—you won't let 'em—" an' it was all over with ol' Monody.
I sat by the bed a long time thinkin' it over, an' then I went out into the settin' room. Jabez an' a couple o' the boys was there an' I told 'em it was over. I went out into the night to have a look at the stars. Whenever somethin' has happened in my little wobbly life down here I like to get out an' see the same old stars in their same old places, calm an' steady an' true. That was one thing which allus drew me to the child Barbie,—she was a star-worshiper too, same as me.
When I got back I see the little doctor explainin' somethin' to Jabez. I thought he had gone long ago, but the hooked-nosed buzzard couldn't leave without satisfyin' his curiosity. "What do you reckon was the reason your friend wouldn't let himself be examined?" sez he, with a leer.
"It wasn't nowise my business," sez I, "so I didn't think about it at all."
"Well, it was because he wasn't a man at all—he was a woman."