Big Brother Bill had no hesitation at any time. He was carried away by the enthusiasm Kate's words inspired. He thrust out one great hand and crushed the woman's in its palm.
"Sure I'll help. I've just got two hands and a straight eye, and when fight's around I don't care if it snows. My head's the weak spot. But, anyway, what you say goes. We'll save Charlie, or--or--Say, a real bright woman's just about the grandest thing God ever made."
Kate winced under the crushing force of his handshake, but she smiled bravely and thankfully up into his face as she bade him "good night."
The surprises of the night were not yet over for Big Brother Bill. It almost seemed as if a lifetime of surprises were to be crowded into his first night in the valley of Leaping Creek.
Still thoroughly moist, he finally reached home to find his brother there, waiting for him.
Of course, the big man promptly blundered.
Charlie was in the living room, sitting in a dilapidated rocking chair. An unopen book was in his lap, and his dark, clever face was turned toward the single window the room possessed, as the heavy tread of Bill sounded on the veranda.
It was obvious he was still laboring under the influence of the drink; it was also obvious, though less apparent, that he was laboring under an emotion, which unusually disturbed him. His eyes were shining with a gleaming light which might have expressed anger, excitement, or even simply the effect of his libations. Whatever it was, Bill recognized, without appreciating its meaning, a definite change from the man he had so cordially greeted earlier in the day; a recognition which made his blundering now, more hopelessly than ever, an expression of his utter lack of discretion.
"Say, Charlie, boy," he cried, as he entered the little room, filling it almost to overflowing with his robust personality, "I've chased half over the valley looking for you. Then I saw you at the old pine and shouted, and you sort of faded away. I thought I'd 'got' 'em. What with that, and then falling into the river, and one or two minor, but more or less unpleasant accidents, I've had one awful time. Say, this valley's got me beat to death."
The simplicity of the man was monumental. No one else could have looked upon that slight figure, huddled down in the big old rocker, without having experienced a feeling of restraint; no one could have observed the drawn, frowning brows, and the hard lines about the still somewhat sensual mouth, without using an added caution in approaching him. There were fires stirring behind Charlie's dark eyes which were certainly ominous.