I just canned two men this morning, before I left." Ford was debating with himself how best to approach the subject to him most important.
"Good ee-nough! I can take the place of those two men; eat their share of grub, do their share of snoring, and shirk their share of work, and drink their share of booze--oh, lovely! But, in the words of the dead, immortal Shakespeare, 'What's eating you ?' You look to me as if you hadn't enjoyed the delights of a good, stiff jag since--" He waved a hand vaguely.

"Ain't a scar on you, so help me!" He regarded Ford with frank curiosity.
"Oh, yes there is.

I've got the hide peeled off two knuckles, and one of my thumbs is just getting so it will move without being greased," Ford assured him, and then went straight at what was on his mind.
"Say, Rock, I was told that you had a hand in my getting married, back in Sunset that night." Rock made his horse back until it nearly fell over a rock; his face showed exaggerated symptoms of terror.
"I couldn't help it," he wailed.

"Spare muh--for muh poor mother's sake, oh spare muh life!" Whereat Ford laughed, just as Rock meant that he should do.

"You licked Bill twice for that, they tell me," Rock went on, quitting his foolery and coming up close again.