I been lyin' here drinkin' up the sunshine."
The other stood beside the open window and there he canted his head, his
glance far off and intent.
"D'you hear?" he asked, turning sharply.
There was a fierce eagerness in his face.
"Hear what?"
"It's spring," he murmured, without answering more directly than this, and
Vic felt that the other had changed again, grown understandable.
Nevertheless, the shock of that sudden alteration at the window kept him
watching his host with breathless interest. Whatever it was that the
strange fellow heard, a light had gleamed in his eyes for a moment. As he
sauntered back towards the bed just a trace of it lingered about him, a
hint of sternness.
"Spring?" answered Gregg. "Yep, I smelled spring a few days back and I
started out to find some action. You can see for yourself that I found it,
partner." He stirred, uneasily, but it was necessary that the story should
be told lest it reach the ears of this man from another source. It was one
thing to shelter a fugitive from justice whose crime was unknown, perhaps
trifling, but it might be quite another story if this gentle, singular man
learned that his guest was a new-made murderer.
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