‘This ’n didn’t have any wings. Sleepy, didja ever see a girl with more nerve than Nan Lane? By golly, she’s a dinger. Wants to cry, but won’t. It’s a hell of a position for her to be in, don’tcha know it. She’s up there in the kitchen cookin’ up a meal for us, when down in her heart she wants to lie down and cry her eyes out. If I ever get married, I hope I get her kind.’
‘One that won’t cry, Hashknife?’
‘Sure.’
‘Yuh never will, cowboy. Mebby she won’t cry from ordinary causes, but jist let you put on a boiled collar and a white shirt, and she’ll cry.’
‘Is it that bad?’ sadly.
‘Worse than that, Hashknife. Yuh look jist like a half-broke Apaloosie lookin’ over a whitewashed fence.’
‘I might get one with a sense of humor, Sleepy.’
‘She’d have to have, cowboy.’
Rex was wandering around the yard, like a lost pup, and finally joined them at the corral.
‘I wish I knew what to do,’ he said sadly. ‘Nan is up there in the kitchen, crying. I—I tried to solace her, but it didn’t seem to do much good. She’s afraid they are going to hang her father, you know. Perhaps I handled the situation badly when I told her we’d both be orphans if such a thing happened. And then I asked her to marry me.’