"But anyway, I'm through."

"They're all through!" Brill said. "A hundred others just like you,
scattered here and there. It's come to them recent just what a bad lot
Lang is. It's hell what a whisper can do."

"It is when that whisper is backed by a thousand-dollar reward," Carson
agreed. "If he really pays up it'll wreck Lang's little snap for sure."

Brill dabbed his cloth at an imaginary spot on the polished slab and
nodded without comment.

"I reckon he launched that scheme because Slade put a price on him
first," Carson said.

"I didn't know Slade was into this," Brill stated softly. "There's no
proof of that. Not a shred."

"No more than there's any proof that Harris is behind these rewards,"
Carson said. "But you know that Slade is out to wreck the Three Bar
since they've planted squatters there."

The storekeeper failed to respond.

"There's likely a dozen men looking for Harris right now," Carson
prophesied.

"But it's hard for one of 'em to get within ten miles of the ranch,"
Brill observed. "So while they're maybe looking for him it's right
difficult to see him that far off."

"I don't mind admitting that I'm for Harris--as against Slade," Carson
said.

"Just between us two I don't mind confessing that I'm neutral--as
against everything else," Brill returned.

"Now you know how I'm lined up. Do I get that quart?" Carson urged.

"I knew how you was lined up months back." Brill turned on a dry smile.

"I ain't told a soul till right now," Carson objected. "So how could
you know?"

"You didn't need to tell. As soon as that rumor leaked out it was a
cinch where you'd stand. And a hundred others are crowding on to the
same foothold along with you."

"And why not?" Carson demanded. "Who wants to get a thousand plastered
on his scalp? It would tempt a man's best friends."

"Or scare 'em off," the storekeeper commented. "Which is all the same
in the end."

A half dozen men clattered up in front and surged through the door.
More arrivals followed as the regular afternoon crowd gathered before
the bar. There were many jobless hands drifting from one ranch to the
next, "grublining" on each brand for a week or more at a time during
the slack winter months.

Carpenter rode up alone. Brill lowered one lid and jerked his head
toward Carson.

"Broke--and reformed," he said. "Maybe."

Some minutes later Carp bought the thirsty man a drink.

"You looking for a job?" he asked.