Doc started off on the dead run, and for a while Curly watched his figure flopping away into the blue mists of dusk. The night was falling fast.
"Po' Buck," she whispered.
"I'm sorry, too," says McCalmont; "sooner or later he had to be a skunk, and behave as such."
"He's daid," says Curly. "I heard him die just now, and he did love me so hard."
"The trail is clearing ahead for you, my girl."
"I'm sort of tired," she answered.
"You'll rest to-night."
"Father when you was talking with Jim outside the shack I was awake; I heard all what was said, but couldn't understand. Jim wanted suthin' fearful bad. What was it he wanted, dad?"
"Wall, now, if that don't beat all! You jest got ears like a lil' fox! And didn't I act plumb good and tame with that Jim boy?"
"Which you shorely did. Fancy, you taking all that war-talk, and never even shooting his laigs. Yo're getting better'n better every day."