“Well, you can’t forgive him just yet,” said the man he was talking to, sort of soothing. “He ain’t here. He’s on a new job: foreman at the Llindura, and went out last week.”
“Oh!” said Billsky. He looked all around him, kind of taken aback and hurt. “Oh! Why’d he do that?”
“He didn’t do it because he was afraid of you, old sport,” said the other man, laughing fit to hurt himself, “if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Billsky looked more hurt than ever. He’d big collie-dog eyes in his furry face, and now they fairly filled with tears. “Why should I think that?” he said earnestly. “I only want to forgive him. I only want to tell him I forgive him.” And he went away, all puzzled at the contrariety of things in general.
He kept pretty small and quiet about Borromeo for a few days; and then I saw him looking awful pleased with himself. “Gray Thomas,” he told me, “he’s going out to the Llindura with some mules, and he’ll take me along. So now I’ll be able to forgive Radway,” he said, “and get it off my mind.”
He went out to the Llindura with the mules. When he got there, he found Rad had been sent to Sageville with a bunch of calves the day before.
He stayed a week at the Llindura, almost too worried to earn his keep, waiting for Radway. Radway didn’t come. At the end of the week, he lit out for Sageville. Halfway there, he met the rest of Rad’s outfit, coming back. “Rad’s been bit with the mining fever,” they told Billsky, “and he’s off into the Altanero country with a man he met in Sageville. The boss’ll be mad with him.” Billsky looked more grieved than ever.
“Did he know I was waiting for him?” said he.
“No,” said they, “how should he?”
Well, how should he? But I believe he did. You see, Billsky’s forgiveness had got on his nerves.