Anyone does. When he dies the whole range will know about it--damn
quick. I know _that_ much about Red Pierre; but who doesn't?"
"I, for one."
"You!"
Strangely enough, there was more of accusation than of surprise in the
word.
"Certainly," repeated Mary. "I've only been in this part of the
country for a short time. I really know almost nothing about
the--legends."
"Legends?" said the boy, and laughed. "Legend? Say, lady, if Red
Pierre is just a legend the Civil War ain't no more'n a fable. Legend?
You go anywhere on the range an' get 'em talking about that legend,
and they'll make you think it's an honest-to-goodness fact, and
no mistake."
Mary queried earnestly: "Tell me about Red Pierre. It's almost as hard
to learn anything of him as it is to find out anything about McGurk."
"What you doing?" asked the boy, keen with suspicion. "Making a study
of them two for a book?"
He wiped a damp forehead.
"Take it from me, lady, it ain't healthy to join up them two even in
talk!" "Is there any harm in words?"
The boy was so upset for some unknown reason that he rose and paced up
and down the room.
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