“Yeah, he’s dead, Len. Bronc drug him to death. Reckon he got drunk, as usual. He drank pretty heavy, yuh know. Me and Sailor tried to slow him down. Even drank up his liquor, tryin’ to keep him from gettin’ to it. That was Sailor’s idea. He gits one once in a while. Well, come on in. Harmony said he wrote yuh about yore--yore wife, Len. That shore wasn’t no good news to send to a man in yore position. But he said he had to do it, yuh know. I see the kid once in a while. Looks like you, Len. ’Bout seven year old now, ain’t he? Uh-huh. Good-lookin’ kid.” “I ain’t seen him,” said Len slowly. “He wouldn’t remember me, Whisperin’.” “No, that’s true. Still, he’s yore flesh and blood. I said to Harmony that I’d hate to be in Charley Prentice’s shoes when you came back, Len.” Len shook his head slowly. “Charles Prentice didn’t do me no dirt, Whisperin’. I wasn’t blind. My wife was the wrong woman for me, and she might as well have married Charley as anybody else.” “Well, I don’t know how yuh felt about her, Len. Me and Harmony talked about her a lot, yuh see. Of course she sold the place you had in town and all yore horses, saddles and all them things. Harmony was pretty mad. He tried to save somethin’ out of it, but it wasn’t no use. She comes out here and talks with Harmony. Said she wanted to git a line on some money you had. To hear her talk you’d think it was a lot of money, Len. She knowed that Harmony was yore best friend, and she thought he’d know. But he said he didn’t know anythin’. She got what was in the bank, but it wasn’t what she expected, by any means.” Len smiled thinly. “I wonder if she meant the money they say I stole?” “No, that wasn’t it,” quickly. “She said it was money you got when some kin of yours died in the south. Said she never got on to it, until she found an old letter of yours, after you went away.” “Oh, I see,” grunted Len thoughtfully. “Well, how’s this outfit gettin’ along, Whisperin’?” “Fine! Yessir, it’s shore doin’ well. Old Harmony’s made money here. He was thinkin’ of puttin’ another man or two on the job. We’re raisin’ cows, pardner. The three of us has handled things fine, but she’s growin’ pretty big. The last round-up count showed about a thousand head of Box S brands, not countin’ horses. Harmony’s been raisin’ a lot of horses. A year ago he sold a hundred head to the United States for cavalry horses. Got a hundred apiece for every danged one. And he sold twenty head to a feller who wanted ’em for polo, whatever that is. Got a top price for every one of ’em. And he sold quite a bunch of steers to a Chicago buyer, too.