Thrice he was compelled to return
to the floor; and in the end his performance was only stopped by an
attack of sciatica. Two strong men carried him back to his chair and
wept over him, and there was another drink all around.
In this scene of universal joy there were two places of shadow. For at
the rear end of the room, almost out of reach of the lantern-light, sat
Haw-Haw Langley and Mac Strann. The more Haw-Haw Langley drank the more
cadaverous grew his face, until in the end it was almost as solemn as
that of Pale Annie himself; as for Mac Strann, he seldom drank at all.
A full hour had just elapsed since either of them spoke, yet Haw-Haw
Langley said, as if in answer to a remark: "He's heard too much about
you, Mac. He ain't no such fool as to come to Elkhead."
"He ain't had time," answered the giant.
"Ain't had time? All these days?"
"Wait till the dog gets well. He'll follow the dog to Elkhead."
"Why, Mac, the trail's been washed out long ago. That wind the other day
would of knocked out any trail less'n a big waggon."
"It won't wash out the trail for _that_ dog," said Mac Strann calmly.
"Well," snarled Haw-Haw, "I got to be gettin' back home pretty soon. I
ain't rollin' in coin the way you are, Mac."
The other returned no answer, but let his eyes rove vacantly over the
room, and since his head was turned the other way, Haw-Haw Langley
allowed a sneer to twist at his lips for a moment.
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