There aint much in anything, anyway.When your horse is away at the front leadin' the bunch and everybody yellin' for you, you're happy, but when some other fellow's horse makes the runnin' and the crowd gets a-yellin' for him, then you're sick.Pretty soon you git so you don't care.""'Vanity of vanities, all is vanity,'" quoted Shock."Solomon says you're right.""Solomon, eh? Well, by all accounts he hit quite a gait, too.Had them all lookin' dizzy, I reckon.Come on in.I'll have dinner in a shake."Fried pork and flapjacks, done brown in the gravy, with black molasses poured over all, and black tea strong enough to float a man-of-war, all this with a condiment of twenty miles of foot-hill breezes, makes a dinner such as no king ever enjoyed.Shock's delight in his eating was so obvious that Bill's heart warmed towards him.No finer compliment can be paid a cook than to eat freely and with relish of his cooking.Before the meal was over the men had so far broken through the barriers of reserve as to venture mutual confidences about the past.After Shock had told the uneventful story of his life, in which his mother, of course, was the central figure, Bill sat a few moments in silence, and then began: "Well, I never knew my mother.My father was a devil, so Iguess I came naturally by all the devilment in me, and that's a few.
But"--and here Bill paused for some little time--"but I had a sweetheart once, over forty years ago now, down in Kansas, and she was all right, you bet.Why, sir, she was--oh! well, 'taint no use talkin', but I went to church for the year I knowed her more'n all the rest of my life put together, and was shapin' out for a different line of conduct until--" Shock waited in silence."After she died I didn't seem to care.I went out to California, knocked about, and then to the devil generally." Shock's eyes began to shine.
"I know," he said, "you had no one else to look after--to think of.""None that I cared a blank for.Beg pardon.So I drifted round, dug for gold a little, ranched a little, Just like now, gambled a little, sold whisky a little, nothing very much.Didn't seem to care much, and don't yet."Shock sat waiting for him to continue, but hardly knew what to say.
His heart was overflowing with pity for this lonely old man whose life lay in the past, grey and colourless, except for that single bright spot where love had made its mark.Suddenly he stretched out his hand toward the old man, and said: "What you want is a friend, a real good friend."The old man took his hand in a quick, fierce grip, his hard, withered face lit up with a soft, warm light.
"Stranger," he said, trying hard to keep his voice steady, "I'd give all I have for one.""Let me tell you about mine," said Shock quickly.
Half an hour later, as Bill stood looking after Shock and rubbing his fingers, he said in soliloquy: "Well, I guess I'm gittin' old.
What in thunder has got into me, anyway? How'd he git me on to that line? Say, what a bunco steerer he'd make! And with that face and them eyes of his! No, 'taint that.It's his blank honest talk.Hang if I know what it is, but he's got it! He's white, I swear! But blank him! he makes a fellow feel like a thief."Bill went back to his lonely ranch with his lonely miserable life, unconsciously trying to analyse his new emotions, some of which he would be glad to escape, and some he would be loath to lose.He stood at his door a moment, looking in upon the cheerless jumble of boxes and furniture, and then turning, he gazed across the sunny slopes to where he could see his bunch of cattle feeding, and with a sigh that came from the deepest spot in his heart, he said: "Yes, Iguess he's right.It's a friend I need.That's what."
