“I just got to thinkin’,” he said. “Sometimes I get news thataway. Go ahead and play somethin’, Laura.”
For possibly an hour Laura played snatches of old songs, playing entirely by ear. Hashknife still sprawled on the sofa, his eyes closed. Several times Laura and Peggy exchanged amused glances, thinking he was asleep, but he was far from it. Finally Laura left the organ, and Hashknife opened his eyes.
“Play another one, Laura,” he asked.
“Another one?” The little blonde-headed girl laughed. “Why, I’ve been playing for over an hour, Hashknife.”
“Thasso?” He smiled at her. “That shows how much I enjoyed yore music.”
“I don’t believe you were listening at all.”
“Oh, yeah, I was.”
The two girls decided to go to bed and left Hashknife to his cigarette-rolling. For another hour he smoked, only moving to throw a cigarette butt into the fireplace and to roll a fresh one. He had turned the lamp down low when the girls left the room and now he blew out the light, yawned heavily and went to the front door.
It was dark outside and the wind was blowing. He could see the dull glow of a light in the bunk-house window as he stepped off the porch. To the left and to the rear of the bunk-house was the main stable, behind which was part of the corral, which extended out from a front corner of the stable.
Hashknife was half-way to the bunk-house when something attracted his attention. It was down near the stable and sounded very much like a smothered cry. The wind was blowing from that direction. He stopped short, peering through the darkness. There was something moving down near the stable.