"Grange's Andree has come back tu Grey Wolf," he said. "I was goin' in tu see her when—this came."
Dick nodded. He was not concerned with Grange's Andree. His mind was puzzling over some of the bald, stupid things which were all O'Hara had been able to do in the way of sin. O'Hara's hand shot out and grasped Dick's sleeve.
"Corp'ral," he whispered. "For what ye may hear about that girl du not lay ut up against her. Du not. An'—ye'll hear plenty. She's no more than the birrd in the forest for understanding. It goes wid the natur ov her tu have the bhoys afther her—faith, they're all that an' more. And she don't know—she don't know" His voice broke and caught up again. "Maybe she have not a sowl—or a heart—I dunno. I dunno. But I wudn't she had a hearrt in her tu make her sad. Betther as she is, the darlin'. Betther as she is. An' if a man says anything against her—give him the lie from me. An' who wud give ut if ut was not me"
Dick was interested now.
"Where has she been?" he said.
"Outside—tu Calgary—I was woild tu see her again, an' I putt in the furrst horse that come—well—bhut give me the worrd on the lips ov ye, Corp'ral. Say: 'If anny man says annything against her O'Hara will come back tu give the lie tu him.' Say ut."
Dick said it, not knowing that he himself was to qualify for O'Hara's visit very fully in the days to come.
"Mary—have mercy" muttered O'Hara; and fell into stupor, and presently went on to present his prayer in person.
When the necessary work was done by the two men moving softly in the dingy shack, de Choiseaux drove home through the coming dark to one who needed him still, and Dick turned to the labour that was his to do.
He overhauled O'Hara's freight-sled in the stable, padding it level with empty sacks and blankets. He went with his knife to the snake-fence and cut and dragged the harness clear of the dead horse, while the sun turned all the waste of snow to pink and delicate umber that steeled to cold blue, and the rigid air numbed his nose
