"Thank God!" he said; "I'm in time." And he drew his hand down over his face with the fingers hard and close as though he pulled something away.
"In time for what?" said Dix.
Abner looked him over. And I could see the muscles of his big shoulders stiffen as he looked. And again he looked him over. Then he spoke and his voice was strange.
"Dix," he said, "is it you?"
"Who would it be but me?" said Dix.
"It might be the devil," said Abner. "Do you know what your face looks like?"
"No matter what it looks like!" said Dix.
"And so," said Abner, "we have got courage with this new face."
Dix threw up his head.
"Now, look here, Abner," he said, "I've had about enough of your big manner. You ride a horse to death and you come plunging in here; what the devil's wrong with you?"
"There's nothing wrong with me," replied Abner, and his voice was low. "But there's something damnably wrong with you, Dix."
"The devil take you," said Dix, and I saw him measure Abner with his eye. It was not fear that held him back; fear was gone out of the creature; I think it was a kind of prudence.
Abner's eyes kindled, but his voice remained low and steady.
"Those are big words," he said.
49
