ly. "The course you take is rarely honorable and suggests
great credit. The second reason would be a strike of rich ore rather
than a failure."

"I will guarantee the failure, Creel," said Sandy. "If, at any time, a
strike is made in the Molly, I shall be glad to transfer to you
personally the same amount of shares from my own holdin's. I'll put that
in writin', if you prefer it."

"No," said Creel, "it ain't necessary." He glumly made the retransfer.
Sandy viseed Keith's accounts and took Keith's check for the balance,
placing it to a personal account for Molly. The check was on the
Hereford Bank and it practically exhausted Keith's local resources.

As they left the bank a cowboy rode up on a flea-bitten roan that was
lathered with sweat, sadly roweled and leg-weary. Astride of it was
Wyatt, riding automatically his eyes wide-opened, red-rimmed, owlish
with lack of sleep and overmuch bad liquor. Afoot he could hardly have
navigated, in the saddle he seemed comparatively sober. He spurred over
to the big machine as Sandy and Keith got in to return to the ranch,
sweeping his sombrero low in an ironical bow.

"Evenin', gents," he greeted them, his voice husky, inclined to
hiccough. "This here is one hell of a town, Bourke! They've took away my
guns an' told me to be good, they're sellin' doughnuts an' buttermilk
down to Regan's old joint, popcorn an' sody-water over to Pap
Gleason's! Me, I tote my own licker an' they don't take that off 'n my
hip. You don't want a good man out to the Three Star, Bourke?"

"I never saw a real good man the shape you're in, Wyatt. Sober up an'
I'll talk to you."

Wyatt leaned from the saddle and held on to the side of the machine with
one hand, his alcohol-varnished eyes boring into Sandy's with the fixity
of drink-madness.

"Why in hell would I sober up?" he demanded. "Plimsoll, the lousy swine,
he stole my gal, God blast him! He drove me off'n the Waterline, him an'
the ones that hang with him. I'd like to see him hang. I'd like to see
the eyes stickin' out of his head an' his tongue stickin' out of his
lyin' jaws! I'm gettin' even with Jim Plimsoll fo' what he done to me."
Wyatt's eyes suddenly ran over with tears of self-pity. "Blast him to
hell!" he cried. "Watch my smoke!" He withdrew his hand and galloped up
the street as Keith's car started.

The powerful engine made nothing of the few miles between Hereford and
the Three Star and it was only mid-afternoon when they arrived