Johnny was literally hurled out of the room toward the kitchen, trailing a crackle of strange-sounding but unmistakable profanity behind him. And Joe Pollard, perching his bulk on the edge of the table, introduced Terry to the boys again, for Oregon had come back with word that Kate would be out soon. "Here's Denver Pete. You know him already, and he's worth his weight in any man's company. Here's Slim Dugan, that could scent a big coin shipment a thousand miles away. Phil Marvin ain't any slouch at stalling a gent with a fat wallet and leading him up to be plucked. Marty Cardiff ain't half so tame as he looks, and he's the best trailer that ever squinted at a buzzard in the sky; he knows this whole country like a book. And Oregon Charlie is the best all-around man you ever seen, from railroads to stages. And me--I'm sort of a handyman. Well, Black Jack, your old man himself never got a finer crew together than this, eh?" Denver Pete had waited until his big friend finished. Then he remarked quietly: "All very pretty, partner, but Terry figures he walks the straight and narrow path. Savvy?" "Just a kid's fool hunch!" snorted Joe Pollard. "Didn't your dad show me the ropes? Wasn't it him that taught me all I ever knew? Sure it was, and I'm going to do the same for you, Terry. Damn my eyes if I ain't! And here I been sitting, trimming you! Son, take back the coin. I was sure playing a cheap game--and I apologize, man to man." But Terry shook his head. "You won it," he said quietly. "And you'll keep it." "Won nothing. I can call every coin I throw. I was stealing, not gambling. I was gold-digging! Take back the stuff!" "If I was fool enough to lose it that way, it'll stay lost," answered Terry. "But I won't keep it, son." "Then give it away. But not to me." "Black Jack--" began Pollard. But he received a signal from Denver Pete and abruptly changed the subject. "Let it go, then. They's plenty of loose coin rolling about this day. If you got a thin purse today, I'll make it fat for you in a week. But think of me stumbling on to you!" It was the first time that Terry had a fair opportunity to speak, and he made the best of it. "It's very pleasant to meet you--on this basis," he said. "But as for taking up--er--road life--" The lifted hand of Joe Pollard made it impossible for him to complete his sentence. "I know. You got scruples, son. Sure you got 'em. I used to have 'em, too, till your old man got 'em out of my head." Terry winced. But Joe Pollard rambled on, ignorant that he had struck a blow in the dark: "When I met up with the original Black Jack, I was slavin' my life away with a pick trying to turn ordinary quartz into pay dirt. Making a fool of myself, that's what I was doing. Along comes Black Jack. He needed a man. He picks me up and takes me along with him. I tried to talk Bible talk. He showed me where I was a fool.