“How’re cases?” he asked.
Bob told his story without sparing himself.
Blister listened and made no comment to the end.
“You’re takin’ that Ute business too s-serious,” he said. “Gettin’ s-scalped ’s no picnic. You’re entitled to feel some weak at the knees. I’ve heard from Dud. He says you stood up fine.”
“He told you—?”
“N-no particulars. T-trouble with you is you’ve got too much imagination. From yore story I judge you weakened when the danger was over. You gotta learn to keep up that red haid like I said. When you’re scared or all in, stretch yore grin another inch. You don’t need to w-worry. You’re doin’ all right.”
Bob shook his head. Blister’s view encouraged him, though he could not agree with it.
“Keep yore eye on that Dud Hollister hombre,” the justice went on. “He’s one sure enough go-getter.”
“Yes,” agreed Bob. “He’s there every jump of the road. An’ he didn’t tell on me either.”
“You can tie to Dud,” agreed Blister. “Here’s the point, son. When you g-get that sinkin’ feelin’ in yore tummy it’s notice for you to get up on yore hind laigs an’ howl. Be a wolf for a change.”