His quick eye sought first the face of Happy Jack in anxious questioning; then, miserably, he searched the faces of his friends.
"Good Lord!" he exclaimed mechanically, dismounted and bent over the figure on the ground.

For a long minute he knelt there; he laid his ear close to Happy Jack's mouth, took off his glove and laid his hand over Happy's heart; reached up, twitched off his neckerchief, shook out the creases and spread it reverently over Happy Jack's face.

He stood up then and spoke slowly, his eyes fixed upon the stumbling approach of the captives.
"Pink told us Happy had been shot, so we rode around and come up behind 'em.

It was a cinch.

And--say, boys, we've got the Dots in a pocket.
They've got to eat outa our hands, now.