Len nodded.
“Jist awhile ago.”
“Yeah, he’s dead, Len. Bronc drug him to death. Reckon he got drunk, as usual. He drank pretty heavy, yuh know. Me and Sailor tried to slow him down. Even drank up his liquor, tryin’ to keep him from gettin’ to it. That was Sailor’s idea. He gits one once in a while. Well, come on in. Harmony said he wrote yuh about yore—yore wife, Len. That shore wasn’t no good news to send to a man in yore position. But he said he had to do it, yuh know. I see the kid once in a while. Looks like you, Len. ’Bout seven year old now, ain’t he? Uh-huh. Good-lookin’ kid.”
“I ain’t seen him,” said Len slowly. “He wouldn’t remember me, Whisperin’.”
“No, that’s true. Still, he’s yore flesh and blood. I said to Harmony that I’d hate to be in Charley Prentice’s shoes when you came back, Len.”
Len shook his head slowly.
“Charles Prentice didn’t do me no dirt, Whisperin’. I wasn’t blind. My wife was the wrong woman for me, and she might as well have married Charley as anybody else.”
“Well, I don’t know how yuh felt about her, Len. Me and Harmony talked about her a lot, yuh see. Of course she sold the place you had in town and all yore horses, saddles and all them things. Harmony was pretty mad. He tried to save somethin’ out of it, but it wasn’t no use. She comes out here and talks with Harmony. Said she wanted to git a line on some money you had. To hear her talk you’d think it was a lot of money, Len. She knowed that Harmony was yore best friend, and she thought he’d know. But he said he didn’t know anythin’. She got what was in the bank, but it wasn’t what she expected, by any means.”
Len smiled thinly.
“I wonder if she meant the money they say I stole?”