"Kinda wet for makin' calls, but when a man's loaded down with a guilty conscience--" He sighed somewhat ostentatiously and pulled forward a chair rejuvenated with baling-wire braces between the legs, and a cowhide seat.

"What's that cookin'-- coffee, or sheep-dip ?" he inquired facetiously of Sandy, though his eyes dwelt solicitously upon Ford's bowed head.

He leaned forward and slapped Ford in friendly fashion upon the shoulder.
"Buck up--'the worst is yet to come,'" he shouted, and laughed with an exaggeration of cheerfulness.

"You can't ever tell when death or matrimony's goin' to get a man.

By hokey, seems like there's no dodgin' either one." Ford lifted a bloodshot eye to the other.