"Me!"
Purvis viewed him with compassion.
"Me bein' your friend, Buck," he said, "take my tip an' don't try no fool stunts around that girl. Which she once belongs to Whistlin' Dan Barry an' therefore she's got the taboo mark on her for any other man. Everything he's ever owned is different, damned different!"
His voice lowered to a tone which was almost awe.
"Speakin' for myself, I don't hanker after his hoss like Bill Kilduff; or his girl, like Lee Haines; or his life, like the chief. All I want is a shot at that wolf-dog, that Black Bart!"
"You look sort of het up, Hal."
"He come near puttin' his teeth into my leg down at Morgan's place the day Barry cleaned up the chief."
"Why, any dog is apt to take a snap at a feller."
"This ain't a dog. It's a wolf. An' Whistlin' Dan—" he stopped.
"You look sort of queer, Hal. What's up?"
"You won't think I'm loco?"
"No."
"They's some folks away up north that thinks a man now an' then turns into a wolf."
Buck nodded and shrugged his shoulders. A little chill went up and down his back.
