A strong grip on his wrist paralysed his fingers. Whistling
Dan leaned above him.
"Wake up," said the latter.
"What the devil--" breathed the marshal. "You travel like a cloud
shadow, Dan. You make no sound."
"Wake up and talk to me."
"I'm awake all right. What's happened?"
There was a moment of silence while Dan seemed to be trying for
speech.
Black Bart, at the other side of the clearing, pointed his nose at
the yellow moon and wailed. He was very close, but the sound was so
controlled that it seemed to come at a great distance from some wild
spirit wandering between earth and heaven.
Instead of speaking Dan jumped to his feet and commenced pacing up and
down, up and down, a rapid, tireless stride; at his heels the wolf
slunk, with lowered head and tail. The strange fellow was in some
great trouble, Calder could see, and it stirred him mightily to know
that the wild man had turned to him for help. Yet he would ask no
questions.
When in doubt the cattleman rolls a cigarette, and that was what
Calder did. He smoked and waited. At last the inevitable came.
"How old are you, Tex?"
"Forty-four."
"That's a good deal. You ought to know something.
Pages:
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155