He stood back and gestured in mock appeal, while the others leaned forward over the bar at varying degrees that they might see and grinned in silence. Bayard looked straight before him and the corners of his mouth twitched in a half smile.
"Who is this lady you're honorin' by hitchin' me up with?" he asked.
"Ho, that's good! I s'pose you don't quite comprehend our meanin'! Well, I'll help you out. This Lytton girl, sister to our hydrophobia skunk! They think you're in love, Bruce, but I stick up for you like a friend ought to. I think you're only brotherly!"
"Why, Tommy, they ought to take your word on anythin' like that," Bayard countered, turning slowly to face the other. "Th' reason th' _Yavapai Argus_ perished was 'cause Tom Clary beat th' editor to all th' news, wasn't it?"
The laugh was on the short cowboy and he joined it heartily.
"But if that's true--that brother stuff--," he said, when he could be heard, "seems to me you're throwin' in with a fine sample of stalwart manhood!"
Then they were off on a concerted damnation of Ned Lytton and under its cover Bayard thanked his stars that Nora had been right, that Yavapai had been satisfied with jumping at the conclusion that Ann could not be her husband's wife.
"But I'll tell you, Bruce," went on Tommy, as Bayard started to leave, "if I was as pretty a fellow as you are, I'd make a play for that gal myself! If she'd only get to know me an' know 'bout my brains, it'd all be downhill an' shady. But she won't. You got th' looks; I've got th' horse power in my head. Can't we form a combination?"
"I'm sort of again' combinations ... where women are concerned," Bruce answered, and walked out before they could see the seriousness that possessed him.
On his way out of town Bayard passed two friends but did not look at them nor appear to hear their salutations. He was a mile up the road before his absorption gave way to a shake of the head and the following summing up, spoken to the jogging Abe:
"Gosh, Pardner, back there they've all got me in love with her. I had a hard time keepin' my head, when they tried to josh me about it. I ain't ever admitted it to myself, even, but has that--not admittin' it--got anything to do with it, I wonder? Does it keep it from bein' so? Why should I get hot, if it ain't true?"