“I reckon Sleed can stand it better than we can,” laughed a miner, who had donated liberally to the elusive black pea.
Duke moved out of the crowd and started for the saloon door, when he came face to face with Sleed’s Luck. The girl was standing on the raised step of the saloon watching the crowd around the Saint, but now she looked straight at Duke, who removed his sombrero slowly. He wanted to speak to her, but turned and started on into the Silver Bar, realizing that he had never met her.
“Wait,” she said softly, and he stopped. Loper came out of the door and walked to the edge of the steps, looking toward the crowd in the street.
“You wanted to speak to me?” asked Duke.
“Yes, I want to speak to you—about—him.” She motioned toward the Saint as she spoke.
“My pardner?” queried Duke.
“Yes. I—I heard him at the graveyard today. Is he a preacher?”
“He can preach,” said Duke slowly.
“He has been educated,” said the girl, as though talking to herself. “He must know a lot of things.”