... Another time, and they were telling him everything but what he wanted especially to know. Yes, Mexicali with a crushed jaw had kept on his pins all through that night of the explosion, until relief came. ‘He’s here in Nogales right now—jaw in a sling,’ added Cal.
Elbert craftily inquired about Florabel.
‘She got broke somewhere—I didn’t hear where,’ said Slim.
‘Not so she ain’t goin’ to recover,’ finished Cal.
Elbert’s lips forced him to say, ‘And little Rainbow?’
‘Not a scratch,’ said Slim. ‘She just fainted and wasn’t there to get hurt—when that explosure took place.’
Elbert was silent. Cal’s voice took up the story: ‘As for that little Mary-woman, I’m holdin’ a letter for you she left before her parents took her up to Tucson.’
It was like splintered glass, the way Slim broke in: ‘We’d better go, Cal. Elbert ain’t lookin’ as well as he should.’
Cal arose: ‘She got all right before she left, except for one broken arm.’
Several seconds ticked, before the question: ‘Which arm?’