Doc'll never suspicion
you, Lin."

"Talk sense," said he.

"It's sense I'm talking. Leave me go to sleep. Ah, ah, I'm going! I'll
go; you can't--"

"Walk, walk!" he repeated. He looked at the door. An ache was numbing
his arms.

"Oh yes, walk! What can you and all your muscle--Ah, walk me to glory,
then, craziness! I'm going; I'll go. I'm quitting this outfit for keeps.
Lin, you're awful handsome to-night! I'll bet--I'll bet she has never
seen you look so. Let me--let me watch yus. Anyway, she knows I came
first!"

He grasped her savagely. "First! You and twenty of yu' don't--God!! what
do I talk to her for?"

"Because--because--I'm going; I'll go. He slung me off--but he had to
sling--you can't--stop--"

Her head was rolling, while the lips smiled. Her words came through
deeper and deeper veils, fearless, defiant, a challenge inarticulate, a
continuous mutter. Again he looked at the door as he struggled to move
with her dragging weight. The drops rolled on his forehead and neck, his
shirt was wet, his hands slipped upon her ribbons. Suddenly the drugged
body folded and sank with him, pulling him to his knees. While he took
breath so, the mutter went on, and through the door came the jigging
fiddle. A fire of desperation lighted in his eyes. "Buffalo Girls!" he
shouted, hoarsely, in her ear, and got once more on his feet with her
as though they were two partners in a quadrille. Still shouting her to
wake, he struck a tottering sort of step, and so, with the bending load
in his grip, strove feebly to dance the laudanum away.

Feet stumbled across the porch, and Lusk was in the room. "So I've got
you!" he said. He had no weapon, but made a dive under the bed and came
up with a carbine. The two men locked, wrenching impotently, and fell
together. The carbine's loud shot rang in the room, but did no harm; and
McLean lay sick and panting upon Lusk as Barker rushed in.

"Thank God!" said he, and flung Lusk's pistol down. The man, deranged
and encouraged by drink, had come across the doctor, delayed him,
threatened him with his pistol, and when he had torn it away, had left
him suddenly and vanished. But Barker had feared, and come after him
here. He glanced at the woman slumbering motionless beside the two men.
The husband's brief courage had gone, and he lay beneath McLean, who
himself could not rise. Barker pulled them apart.

"Lin, boy, you're not hurt?" he asked, affectionately, and lifted the
cow-puncher.