ee. You can't have water
yet, you know. You've--you've got to sweat like a nigger in a cotton
patch first." (Billy Louise could talk very nicely when she wanted to
do so. The Billy of her could also be humanly inelegant when she felt
like it, as you see.)

Ward grunted something and afterwards signified that he would take the
coffee and call it square.

The next time she went near him, he was wrinkling his lean nose because
beads of perspiration were standing there and slipping occasionally
down to his cheeks.

"Fine! You're two niggers in a cotton patch now," she announced
cheeringly. "And Mr. Hookin'-cough will have to hunt another home, I
reckon. You weren't half as hoarse when you swore that last time."

It was physically impossible for Ward to blush, since he was already
the color of a boiled beet; but he looked guilty when she uncovered the
rest of his face and wiped off the gathered moisture. "I didn't think
you'd hear," he grinned embarrassedly.

"I was listening for it, buckaroo. I'd have been scared to pieces if
you hadn't cussed a little. I'd have thought sure you were going to
die. A man," she added sententiously, "always has a chance as long as
he's able to swear. It's like a horse wiggling his ears."

The comparison reminded her that she intended to shut Rattler in the
hay corral; she dried Ward's hands hastily, pulled the wolf-skins off
the bed, and commanded him to keep covered until she came back. She
ran down bareheaded to the stable, saw Rattler industriously boring his
nose into the stack, and put up the gate.

When she went into the cabin again, Ward gave a start and opened his
eyes like one who has been dozing. Billy Louise smiled with
gratification. He was better. She knew he was better. She did not
speak, but went over to the stove and pretended to be busy there,
though she was careful to make no noise. When she turned finally and
glanced toward the bed, Ward was asleep.

Billy Louise took a deep breath, tiptoed over to the bench beside the
table, sat down, and pillowed her head on her folded arms. She wanted
to cry, and she needed to think, and she was deadly, deadly tired.

CHAPTER XXV

THE WOLF JOKE

Billy Louise stayed all night. She was afraid to leave Ward until his
cold was safely better, and there was no one living near enough to
summon; no one whom she wanted to summon, in fact, however close they
might have been. She spent most of the night curle