“Yes’m, he sure does,” nodded Duke, and might have added that the Saint would have been hanged many times for divulging even a part of what he knew.
“I wonder if I could talk to him,” she said quickly. “Not tonight—tomorrow—maybe.”
“Yes’m, I reckon yuh could. We’re livin’ where Preacher Bill used to live.”
Luck nodded. “I saw you there. Preacher Bill was my friend. What is his name?” She motioned toward the Saint.
“Le Saint.”
“Le Saint,” she said softly. “I thought of him that way when I saw him at the graveyard. My father let Preacher Bill teach me things, and I wonder—my father is down at Cactus City tonight.”
“You’ve lived here a long time?” asked Duke.
“Two years.”
“Mighty long time to live here,” observed Duke.