“Yeah. I reckon I’ve lost faith in folks—all of ’em.”
“But you haven’t lost faith in me, Len.”
He looked closely at her for several moments, as he got to his feet.
“Mebby I’ll tell yuh about it sometime,” he said.
It was the same enigmatic answer he had given her before, as he walked down to the corral, where Sailor had just ridden in. Nan closed her eyes and tried to think what Len had meant. What had happened to him in town to cause him to come back in this frame of mind, she wondered?
He talked with Sailor for a while, but did not come back to the house with him. He sat down on a box beside the corral fence, giving no sign of life other than an occasional puff of cigarette smoke.
Nan heard Whispering and Sailor arguing about it in the kitchen.
“He ain’t drunk,” declared Whispering. “Yo’re crazy.”
“Well, he acts drunk. Look at his eyes, will yuh?”
“Aw, he wasn’t in town long enough to git drunk. Go and git me some wood, Sailor.”