ced too far, but Brevoort assured him that he knew about
where to look for the saddle-bags. "I noticed that we passed a pile of
new ties, jest after you dropped 'em," said the Texan.

Pete insisted that they had come too far until they almost walked into
the ties. They searched about in the darkness, feeling along the
ground with their feet, until finally Brevoort stumbled over the
saddle-bags at the bottom of the ditch along the right-of-way. He
picked them up. Pete was still rummaging around as Brevoort
straightened. For an instant the Texan was tempted to keep up the
pretense of searching and so drift farther from Pete, until under cover
of darkness he could decamp with the money--across the border and make
a fresh start with it--as he told himself, "something to start on."

But suddenly, and most absurdly alien to his present mood, came the
vivid recollection of Pete's face when he had smelled those
unforgettable eggs in the box-stall of the Ortez stables. Why this
should have changed Brevoort's hasty inclination is explainable,
perhaps, through that strange transition from the serious to the
humorous; that quick relief from nervous tension that allows a man to
readjust himself toward the universe. Brevoort cursed softly to
himself as he strode to Pete. "Here they are. Found them back there a
piece. Now we got to foot it acrost this end of the town and drift
wide of the white-lights. Down to the south end we kin get somethin'
to eat, and some new clothes. Them Jew stores is open late."

Following the river road they skirted the town until opposite the
Mexican quarter, where, Brevoort explained, they would be comparatively
safe, so long as they attended to their own business.

Pete was amazed by the lights and the clamor--a stringed orchestra
playing in this open front, and a hot-dog vender declaiming in this
open front; a moving-picture entrance brilliantly illuminated, and a
constant movement of folk up and down the streets in free-and-easy
fashion, and he almost forgot the cumulative hazards of their
companionship in experiencing his first plunge into city life.
Brevoort, who knew the town, made for a Mexican lodging-house, where
they took a room above the noisy saloon, washed, and after downing a
drink of vile whiskey, crossed the street to a dingy restaurant. Later
they purchased some inconspicuous "town-clothes" which they carried
back to their room.

Pete was for staying right where they were