wait for li'l Willie. And you
always obey orders. That it, Peaches?"

"What are you drivin' at?"

"Yo're always asking me that, Peaches. Try something new for a change.
Look."

Racey extended a long arm past Peaches' nose and pointed up the
street toward the Starlight Saloon. A man was backing out through the
doorway. Another followed, walking forward. Between them they were
carrying a third man. The hat of the third man was over his face. His
arms, which hung down, jerked like the arms of a doll. Even at that
distance Peaches could see that there was no life in the third man.

"That's Doc Coffin," Racey murmured without rancour. "I wonder where
they're taking him? He used to bach with Nebraska Jones, didn't he? I
guess that's where they're taking him to. Yep, they've gone round the
corner of the stage company's corral."

"Where's Honey?" queried Peaches in a still, small voice.

"In the Starlight. He ain't hurt bad. Foot and arm. Lucky, huh?"

Peaches Austin considered these things a moment. "Doc Coffin was
reckoned a fast man," he said in the tone of one who, after adding
up a column of figures, has found the correct total, "and Honey Hoke
wasn't none slow himself. And you got 'em both."

"I didn't get 'em both," corrected Racey. "Honey is only wounded."

"Same thing. You could 'a' got 'him if you wanted to. Yo're lucky,
that's what it is. Yo're lucky. And you been lucky from the beginning.
I ain't superstitious, but--" Here he lied. Like most gamblers Peaches
was sadly superstitious. He looked at Racey, and there was something
much akin to wonder on his countenance. He shook his head and was
silent a long thirty seconds. "Yo're too lucky for me--I quit," he
finished.

"How much?"

"Complete. I tell you, I don't buck no such luck as yores no longer.
I'll never have none myself if I do. I'm goin'."

Peaches Austin got to his feet and walked across the street to the
hotel. Twenty minutes later Racey, sitting on the bench in front of
the blacksmith shop, saw him issue from the hotel, carrying a saddle,
packed saddlebags, and _cantenas_, blanket and bridle, and go to the
hotel corral.

Within three minutes Peaches Austin rode out from behind the hotel. As
he passed the blacksmith shop he said "So long" to Racey.

"See you later," nodded that serene young man.

"I hope not," tossed back Peaches, and rode on down the trail that
leads over Indian Ridge to Marysville and the south.

Racey watched him out