He opened his eyes in
bewilderment. It was dawn without the cave. Jonas was hobbling down
toward the river.
"Oh, Jonas, you poor thing! Do let Na-che give you a good rubdown
before you try to do anything!"
"No, Miss Diana. If the boss can stand these goings on, I can. How
come he ever thought this was sport, I don't know. I'll never live to
get him back home!"
"Where are you going, Jonas?" called Curly.
Jonas paused. "I ain't going to turn myself round, unless I have to.
What's wanted?"
"I just wanted to warn you that the Colorado's no place for a morning
swim," Curly said.
"I'm just going to get the boss's shaving water."
"There's a hint for you, Judge," Curly turned to Enoch. "I hope you
plan to give more attention to your toilet after this."
"You go to blazes, Curly," said Enoch amiably. "I haven't got the
reputation for pulchritude to live up to that you have."
"Diana's imagination was in working order last night," volunteered
Mack. "To my positive knowledge Curly ain't washed or shaved for three
days."
"You've drunk of the Hassayampa too, Mack!" Curly ran the comb through
his black locks vindictively.
"What's the effect of that draught?" asked Enoch.
"You never tell the truth again," said Curly.
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