Tad shrugged. "Clover's leg was broke. I saw it myself. What could you
do except shoot her?"
"Nothing," Joe admitted, "but womenfolk don't--"
"Don't what?" Tad asked.
"They don't understand some things."
It was a lame explanation and one which, Joe felt, did not suffice.
Women understood most things, and Joe knew of men who had died in agony
while other men stood uncaringly near. That being the way things were
sometimes, there was something mighty wholesome about anyone at all who
could shed genuine tears over a dead cow. But Joe could think of nothing
else to say.