“One of you boys go to Pinnacle and see how bad that feller was hurt,” he ordered. “The other two of yuh take a swing back toward the Devil’s Corral and look around.”
The Devil’s Corral was Big Medicine’s appellation for the wire fence which indicated the boundary line between Mexico and the United States. Big Medicine had no use for a Mexican, and the brown men on the opposite side of the line reciprocated, as far as Big Medicine was concerned.
“I’ll go to town,” said Ike, shoving back from the table.
“Sure yuh would,” grinned Musical. “That seventy-three dollars is burnin’ a hole in yore pocket.”
“Nawsir!” Ike shook his head violently. “Lot of that is goin’ into a new saddle—mebbe all of it. If I play a-tall, it’ll be jist to see if I can’t win enough to add a new pair of chaps, thassall.”
“Kiss yore money good-bye,” laughed Cleve. “It’s fellers like you that buy diamonds for fellers like Faro Lannin’. C’mon, Musical.”
They went outside, rattling their spurred heels on the rough boards. Lucy sat down at the table.
“Me and Wanna go to town bimeby,” she said. “Grocery most all gone. You want somethin’?”
Big Medicine shook his head and got up from the table. Wanna came from the stove and gave her mother a cup of coffee. Then she left the room. Big Medicine looked after her, a quizzical expression in his eyes. He turned to see Lucy looking after Wanna.
“Wanna is gettin’ to be a big girl,” he said slowly.