But he licked me--all right." "Wils, mebbe he did lick you," replied the old rancher, brokenly, "but I reckon he's damn little to be proud of--lickin' a crippled man--thet way." "Boss, Jack'd been drinking," said Moore, weakly.

"And he sure had--some excuse for going off his head.

He caught me--talking sweet to Columbine ...

and then--I called him all the names--I could lay my tongue to." "Ahuh!" The old man seemed at a loss for words, and presently he turned away, sagging in the shoulders, and plodded into the house.
The cowboy, supported by Wade on one side, with Columbine on the other, was helped to an upright position, and with considerable difficulty was gotten into the wagon.

He tried to sit up, but made a sorry showing of it.
"I'll drive him home an' look after him," said Wade.