who
strolled over for a drink, and went to work on another row.

Bud watched him, and wondered if Jerry had changed rows to avoid
further talk with him; and whether Jerry had merely been trying to get
information from him, and had either learned what he wanted to know,
or had given up the attempt. Bud reviewed mentally their desultory
conversation and decided that he had accidentally been very discreet.
The only real bit of information he had given Jerry was the fact that he
was not "on the dodge"--a criminal in fear of the law--and that surely
could harm no man.

That he intended to run against Boise on Sunday was common knowledge;
also that he had a hundred dollar forfeit up on the race. And that he
was going to a dance with Honey was of no consequence that he could see.

Bud was beginning to discount the vague warnings he had received. Unless
something definite came within his knowledge he would go about his
business exactly as if Burroback Valley were a church-going community.
He would not "drift."

But after all he did not go to the dance with Honey, or with anyone. He
came to the supper-table freshly shaved and dressed for the occasion,
ate hungrily and straightway became a very sick young man. He did not
care if there were forty dances in the Valley that night. His head was
splitting, his stomach was in a turmoil. He told Jerry to go ahead with
Honey, and if he felt better after a while he would follow. Jerry at
first was inclined to scepticism, and accused Bud of crawfishing at the
last minute. But within ten minutes Bud had convinced him so completely
that Jerry insisted upon staying with him. By then Bud was too sick to
care what was being done, or who did it. So Jerry stayed.

Honey came to the bunk-house in her dance finery, was met in the doorway
by Jerry and was told that this was no place for a lady, and reluctantly
consented to go without her escort.

A light shone dimly in the kitchen after the dancers had departed,
wherefore Jerry guessed that Marian had not gone with the others,
and that he could perhaps get hold of mustard for an emetic or a
plaster--Jerry was not sure which remedy would be best, and the
patient, wanting to die, would not be finicky. He found Marian measuring
something drop by drop into half a glass of water. She turned, saw who
had entered, and carefully counted three more drops, corked the bottle
tightly and slid it into her apron pocket, and held out the glass to
Jerry.