‘Where you goin’?’
The partner’s eyes checked off each other again, and finally Cal remarked: ‘Looks as if Elbert might need help—’
‘He’s makin’ me restless,’ said Slim.
After supper, the three sat down at a small fire a little apart from the main camp. Elbert was watching himself closely, some tension not to be lured into disclosure of any kind. One fact rested lightly on his faculties at this time. The more that men knew about horses, the more Mamie was appreciated. Cal and Slim had opened a newspaper package and divided a big Sunday paper between them.
‘Please excuse us, Elbert, while we cool down our passions for news,’ said Cal.
A poring silence of many minutes; then from Slim: ‘This fellow’s crazy.’
‘How’s that?’
‘The fellow writin’ this—either crazy, or else there’s goin’ to be a war less than a hundred miles from here!’
‘Who’s fightin’, Slim?’
‘Mexican war—over some oil wells—down San Pasquali way—’