Kate says it's been
that way since her dad first brought Dan in off'n the range. He's been
sort of necessary to old Joe--almost like air to breathe. I tell you,
it's jest a picture to see them two together."
"Very odd, very odd," brooded the doctor, frowning, "but this seems to
be an odd place and an odd set of people. You've no real idea why Dan
left the ranch?"
"Ask the wild geese," said Buck bitterly. He added: "Maybe you'd better
ask Dan's black hoss or his dog, Bart. They'd know better'n anything
else."
"But what has the man been doing since he left? Have you any idea?"
"Get a little chatter, now and then, of a gent that's rid into a town on
a black hoss, prettier'n anything that was ever seen before.
"It's all pretty much the same, what news we get. Mostly I guess he jest
wanders around doin' no harm to nobody. But once in a while somebody
sicks a dog on Bart, and Bart jest nacherally chaws that dog in two.
Then the owner of the dog may start a fight, and Dan drops him and rides
on."
"With a trail of dead men behind him?" cried the doctor, hunching his
shoulders as if to shake off a chill.
"Dead? Nope. You don't have to shoot to kill when you can handle a gun
the way Dan does. Nope, he jest wings 'em. Plants a chunk of lead in a
shoulder, or an arm, or a leg. That's all. They ain't no love of blood
in Dan--except-----"
"Well?"
"Doc," said Buck with a shudder, "I ain't goin' to talk about the
exceptions.
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