Now he pulled
up and waited for the slower rider to overtake him.
"Howdy, Ban!"
"Hello, Pete."
"How's the lady gettin' on?"
"Not too well."
"Can't see much of anythin', huh?"
"No: and never will again."
"Sho! Well, I don't figger out as I'd want to live long in that fix. How
long does the doc give her, Ban?"
"Perhaps six months; perhaps a year. She isn't afraid to die; but she's
hanging to life just as long as she can. She's a game one, Pete."
"And how long will you be with us, Ban?"
"Oh, I'm likely to be around quite a while yet."
Dutch Pete, thoroughly understanding, reflected that here was another
game one. But he remarked only that he'd like to drop in on Miss
K'miller next time he rode over, with a bit of sage honey that he'd
saved out for her.
"She'll be glad to see you," returned the other. "Only, don't forget,
Pete; not a word about anything except local stuff."
"Sure!" agreed Pete with that unquestioning acceptance of another's
reasons for secrecy which marks the frontiersman. "Say, Ban," he added,
"you ain't much of an advertisement for Manzanita as a health resort,
yourself. Better have that doc stick his head in your mouth and look at
your insides."
Banneker raised tired eyes and smiled.
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