“Cut it short, Doc,” cried the marshal goodnaturedly.  “I ain’t got a dictionary handy.  Nerves bad, eh?  Well, I don’t wonder about that.  The old man’s had enough trouble lately to make anybody nervous.  I wouldn’t like to go through it myself.  No, sir!  What with that Dan Barry—­I ain’t steppin’ on any corns, Kate, am I?”

She smiled vaguely, but the marshal accepted the smile as a strong dissent.

“They was a time not so long ago when folks said that you was kind of sweet on Dan.  Glad to hear they ain’t nothin’ in it.  ’S a matter of fact——­”

But here Kate interrupted with a raised hand.  She said:  “I think that was the supper gong.  Yes, there it is.  We’ll go in now, if you wish.”

“They’s only one sound in the world that’s better to me than a dinner gong,” said the profuse marshal, as they seated themselves around the big dining table, “and that was the sound of my wife’s voice when she said ‘I will.’  Queer thing, too.  Maria ain’t got a very soft voice, most generally speakin’, but when she busted up in front of that preacher and says ‘I will,’ why, God A’mighty—­askin’ your pardon, Kate—­they was a change come in her voice that was like a bell chimin’ down in her throat—­a bell ringin’ away off far, you know, so’s you only kind of guess at it!  But comin’ back to you and Dan, Kate——­”

It was in vain she plied the marshal with edibles.  His tongue wagged upon roller-bearings and knew no stopping.  Moreover, the marshal had spent some portion of his life in a boarding house and had mastered the boarding-house art of talking while he ate.

“Comin’ back to you and Dan, we was all of us sayin’ that you and Dan kind of had an eye for each other.  I s’pose we was all wrong.  You see, that was back in the days before Dan busted loose.  When he was about the range most usually he was the quietest man I ever sat opposite to barrin’ one—­and that was a feller that went west with a bum heart at the chuck table!  Ha, ha, ha!” The marshal’s laughter boomed through the big room as he recalled this delightful anecdote.  He went on:  “But after that Jim Silent play we all changed our minds, some.  D’you know, doc, I was in Elkhead the night that Dan got our Lee Haines?”

“I’ve never heard of the episode,” murmured the doctor.

“You ain’t?  Well, I be damned!—­askin’ your pardon, Kate——­But you sure ain’t lived in these parts long!  Which you wouldn’t think one man could ride into a whole town, go to the jail, knock out two guards that was proved men, take the keys, unlock the irons off’n the man he wanted, saddle a hoss, and ride through a whole town—­full of folks that was shootin’ at him.  Now, would you think that was possible?”

“Certainly not.”

“And it ain’t possible, I’m here to state.  But they was something different about Dan Barry.  D’you ever notice it, Kate?”

She was far past speech.

“No, I guess you never would have noticed it.  You was livin’ too close to him all the time to see how different he was from other fellers.  Anyway, he done it.  They say he got plugged while he was ridin’ through the lines and he bled all the way home, and he got there unconscious.  Is that right, Kate?”