"Son, I've not got that far along in my reckonin'," replied Wade.
"But for my sake--think. If Buster Jack gets away with his trick--if he doesn't hang himself by some blunder or fit of temper or spree--what then of Collie?"
Wade could not answer this natural and inevitable query for the reason that he had found it impossible of consideration.
"Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof," he replied.
"Wade, you've said that before. It helped me. But now I need more than a few words from the Bible. My faith is low. I ... oh, I tried to pray because Collie told me she had prayed! But what are prayers? We're dealing with a stubborn, iron-willed old man who idolizes his son; we're dealing with a crazy boy, absolutely self-centered, crafty, and vicious, who'll stop at nothing. And, lastly, we're dealing with a girl who's so noble and high-souled that she'll sacrifice her all--her life to pay her debt. If she were really Bill Belllounds's daughter she'd never marry Jack, saying, of course, that he was not her brother.... Do you know that it will kill her, if she marries him?"
"Ahuh! I reckon it would," replied Wade, with his head bowed. Moore roused his gloomy forebodings. He did not care to show this feeling or the effect the cowboy's pleading had upon him.
"Ah! so you admit it? Well, then, what of Collie?"
"If she marries him--she'll have to die, I suppose," replied Wade.
Then Wilson Moore leaped at his friend and with ungentle hands lifted him, pushed him erect.
"Damn you, Wade! You're not square with me! You don't tell me all!" he cried, hoarsely.