You can relay it." Buck Daniels produced a silver dollar.
"Heads or tails ?" "Heads!" said Haines.
The dollar spun upwards, winking, and clanked on the rocks, tails up.
Haines stared at it with a grisly face.
"Good God," he muttered, "what'll I do, Buck, if she faints ?" "Faints ?" echoed Daniels, "there's no fear of that! The first thing you'll have to do is to saddle her horse." "Now, what in hell are you driving at ?" "She'll be thinkin' of Joan.

God knows she worried enough because Dan hasn't brought the kid back before this, but when she hears what he's done now, she'll know that he's wild for keeps and she'll be on the trail to bring the young'un home." He turned his back cleanly on the house and set his shoulders tense.
"Go on, Lee.

Be a man." He heard the steps of Haines start briskly enough for the house, but they trailed away, slowly and more slowly, and finally there was a long pause.
"He's standing at the door," muttered Buck.

"Thank God I ain't in his boots." He jerked out his papers and tobacco, but in the very act of twisting the cigarette tight the door slammed and he ripped the flimsy thing in two.

He started to take another paper, but his fingers were so unsteady that he could not pull away the single sheet of tissue which he wanted.
Then his hands froze in place.
A faint tapping came out to him.
"He--he's rapping on her door," whispered Buck, and remained fixed in place, his eyes staring straight before him.
The seconds slipped away.
"He's turned yaller," murmured Buck.