“You’ve got to face ’em all, sooner or later, Joe.”
“I suppose that’s true! Honey, what did they say? What did they do?”
“What could they do, Joe? I don’t think they said much. I know Peggy didn’t. They jist acted like they was stunned. It was worse ’n a funeral.”
“Hozie was drunk, and it sobered him,” offered Len.
“Poor old Hozie,” said Joe. “All my friends—once.”
“Aw, they’ll get over it, Joe,” said Honey. “They all like you awful well.”
“Did like me, Honey. Oh, I’m all through. I may not have any brains, but in spite of what I’ve done, I’ve got some pride left. I can’t face ’em. I know what they’re saying!
“‘Drunken bum! Drunken bum!’ Oh, I know it, Honey. No matter whether I’m guilty or not, I’ll always be the drunken bum who forgot his own weddin’. Is there anybody or anythin’ lower than I am?”
“You could put on a plug-hat and walk under a snake’s belly,” said Honey unfeelingly. “I’m not upholdin’ yuh, cowboy. Far be it from me to interrupt yuh when yuh start sayin’ mean things about yourself; but that don’t alter the fact that I’m yore friend, and I ask yuh to come out to the bunk-house and sleep yourself into a sane frame of mind. Right now yo’re as crazy as a locoed calf.”
Joe shook his head.