Hashknife hesitated, looking closely at Big Medicine.
“It was twenty years ago,” said the big man hoarsely. “Jim Meline was my best friend. I wanted to give the little kid a chance, Hartley. He was too small to remember. I didn’t want him to be a half-breed, don’t you see?”
“I’ve saved for him all these years. Meline was investing my money for the boy—I thought. It hurt Lucy.”
Big Medicine drew his hand across his forehead, as he turned and looked back at the body, lying in the shadows.
“But she doesn’t know, Hartley. She must never know.”
Big Medicine choked, as he gripped Hashknife’s arm.
“I’ve got to leave him here, Hartley. Maybe I’ll come back some day and find where they put him. But don’t you see, I wanted to give him his chance?”
“You did, pardner,” said Hashknife softly. “He took his chance when it came along. My God, he went out like a man! What more could you want?”
“Like a man,” mumbled Big Medicine. “Like a white man, Hartley.”
Big Medicine lifted his head. The boys were coming with the horses, and someone asked for Big Medicine and Hashknife.