know there 's no good bucking against bad luck."
He paused and tapped with the tip of his cane against the side of the desk, evidently expecting his companion to speak. This time, however, Gault vouchsafed no reply, but sat looking at him with a steady and somewhat frowning intentness.
The colonel continued, nothing abashed:
"I 've run into bad-luck belts before, but never as wide a one as this. It 's about the biggest I 've struck yet, and I 've had some experience. Not that it's knocked me out," he said, looking up and speaking with quick, genuine earnestness—"don't imagine that."
"Nothing is farther from my mind," said Gault; for the old man's look demanded an answer.
"For an old-timer like me, privations, misfortunes, poverty, don't matter. We pioneers who came round the isthmus and across the plains are n't afraid of a little more roughing it to finish up on. A day without dinner don't frighten us, and we don't put our fingers in our mouths and cry because we have n't got sheets to our beds or fires in our stoves. But when you 've women in your corral it 's different—especially women that have n't always seen the rough side of things."
"Of course it makes a difference," the other
