"No, sir. I guess I told you I couldn't run."
"I'm dead lame," said Appleby. "You can't carry me."
"Well, I'm not going to try. We'll hustle along, and it's quite likely
we'll get somebody to take us in."
Appleby made a last effort, but his voice shook a little as he said,
"This is not your business, Harper. You can't do anything for me. Don't
be a fool!"
Harper laid a hard hand on his shoulder. "Now, I have no use for
arguing. We are white men alone in a heathen country, and you can't help
not being an American, anyway. When he's in a tight place I don't go
back on my partner. You lean on me, and we'll come to a hole we can
crawl into by and by."
He slipped his arm under Appleby's shoulder, and they shuffled on alone
down the dim white road. There was silence all about them, and the tramp
of the Sin Verguenza came back more and more faintly out of the distance
until it ceased altogether.