t we did," she confessed,
aware that Playmate Tweet was studying her face expectantly and
patiently straightening a nose whose tip always left true center the
moment he released it. "Lots of the smaller contractors have finished
here, and are moving on to new jobs up the line, out of our reach.
Ragtown, too, seems to be slowing up, don't you think?"

Tweet pursed his lips. "I hate to admit it," he said, "but I guess
you're right. Still, we can expect things to be slower in winter.
Then these settlers oughta help Ragtown some when spring comes along.
Chances are, though, most of 'em are broke. 'Salways like that. I've
been homesteadin' communities before now. No good, as a rule.

"But I ain't worryin' about Ragtown. She'll perk up. We're gonta get
the yards and the roundhouse--that's a cinch. I know it now. Demarest
slipped it to me. I've spread the glad tidin's, o' course, but it
didn't seem to help. Folks have believed it all along, and have gone
ahead on that belief--so the rush because of that feature was over
before I sprung it. But Ragtown'll pick up in time. The floaters will
go, and substantial citizens will take their places. It's the land
contracts that we need in order to meet our payments and have a future
to bank on, and they're what'll slow up and hurt us till folks get sane
and see we got the only dope."

"You'll have to meet the next payment--when?" Hiram put in here.

"April first--two months off. Six thousan' dollars and interest on
deferred payments."

"Can you meet it?"

"I couldn't if it was due now," was Tweet's reply.

"Well, I'll see that you meet that payment," Jo said. "That will give
you three months more leeway--five months, counting from now--and by
that time things should begin to look up once more."

Tweet heaved a great sigh of relief. "That's a big load off my chest,"
he claimed, as they left the stools.

Two hours later Hiram Hooker, apparently wandering aimlessly about the
dimly lighted street, saw Al Drummond lift a hinged portion of the
shooting-gallery counter and pass within. A man was in charge, and
there was nobody shooting. Drummond nodded briefly to him, traversed
the length of the target range, and disappeared through a door in the
rear.

Three minutes after this Hiram slunk stealthily along the alley and up
to Lucy's little cabin. Softly his fingers plucked at a knot in a
knothole, which he had loosened that evening while Lucy was on watch in