King an' me. We'll fight like
hell--for the fun of fightin'--an' then we'll go back to the wild
again--an' we'll go back when we damn please--did you see him when I
whistled?'

"'I saw,' I says. To tell the truth, I was kind of catchy in the throat,
but I managed to blurt out, 'An' that's why you wouldn't brand him?'

"'Yes,' he says, 'that's why--' An' of a sudden, his voice went hard. 'I
licked him to show him I could. But, I didn't brand him--an' if anyone
ever lays an iron on him, I'll kill him as sure as hell--onless the Red
King beats me to it.'" The old man paused and cleared his throat
huskily, and as Alice dabbed at her eyes he noticed that her lips
quivered. "An' that's the way he fought the booze--open an' above
board--not takin' the advantage of stayin' away from it. He carried a
half-pint flask of it all the time. I've seen him take it out an' hold
it up to the sunlight an' watch the glints come an' go--for all the
world like the glints on the coat of the Red King. He'd shake it, an'
watch the beads rise, an' he'd pull the cork an' smell it--breathe its
flavour an' its bouquet deep into his lungs--an' all the while the
little beads of cold sweat would be standin' out on his forehead, like
dew on a tombstone, an' his tongue would be wettin' his lips, an' his
fingers would be twitchin' to carry it to his mouth. Then his lips would
twist into that grin, an' he'd put back the cork, an' put the bottle in
his pocket, an' ride off--_singin'_.

"When I saw him tackle that horse that no man had ever rode, I knew,
somehow, that he'd ride him. An' when I'd see him pull that bottle, just
tormented crazy for a drink, I knew he wouldn't take a drink. An' the
same way, when he come to me yesterday an' said he was goin' to quit, I
knew he was goin' to quit, an' there was nothin' more to be said. I
asked him why, an' open an' above board he says: 'Because I'm goin' to
get drunk.' I couldn't believe my ears at first. It turned me kind of
sick--an' then I knew I loved him. All at once I saw red. You see, I
knew what he didn't know I knew--about his fight with the booze. 'So, it
got you at last, did it?' I says.

"He looked at me with those quiet eyes, an' the twisty smile come
into his face. 'No, Dad,' he says. 'It didn't get me--an' you know
it didn't get me--an' it never could. I showed it I could lick it,
an' that's all there is to it. I'm goin' away now, an' get drunk as
hell--deliberate--not because I have to get dru