"I don't reckon you sure enough feel that way, Dug," whined the older man ingratiatingly. "Far as that goes, I'm not making any claims that I love my enemies. But you can't say I throw off on my friends. You always know where I'm at." "Sure I know," retorted Doble bluntly. "You're on the inside of a heap of rotten deals. So am I. But I admit it and you won't." "Well, I don't look at it that way, but there's no use arguin'. What about that fire? Sure it got a good start?" "I looked back from across the valley. It was travelin' good." "If the wind don't change, it will sure do a lot of damage to the Jackpot. Liable to spoil some of Crawford's range too." "I'll take that thousand in cash, Brad," the big man said, letting himself down into the easiest chair he could find and rolling a cigarette. "Soon as I know it did the work, Dug." "I'm here tellin' you it will make a clean-up." "We'll know by mornin'. I haven't got the money with me anyhow. It's in the bank." "Get it soon as you can. I expect to light out again pronto. This town's onhealthy for me." "Where will you stay?" asked Brad. "With my friend Steelman," jeered Doble. "His invitation is so hearty I just can't refuse him." "You'd be safer somewhere else," said the owner of the house after a pause. "We'll risk that, me 'n' you both, for if I'm taken it's liable to be bad luck for you too.... Gimme something to eat and drink." Steelman found a bottle of whiskey and a glass, then foraged for food in the kitchen. He returned with the shank of a ham and a loaf of bread. His fear was ill-disguised. The presence of the outlaw, if discovered, would bring him trouble; and Doble was so unruly he might out of sheer ennui or bravado let it be known he was there. "I'll get you the money first thing in the mornin'," promised Steelman. Doble poured himself a large drink and took it at a swallow. "I would, Brad." "No use you puttin' yoreself in unnecessary danger." "Or you. Don't hand me my hat, Brad. I'll go when I'm ready." Doble drank steadily throughout the night. He was the kind of drinker that can take an incredible amount of liquor without becoming helpless. He remained steady on his feet, growing uglier and more reckless every hour. Tied to Doble because he dared not break away from him, Steelman's busy brain began to plot a way to take advantage of this man's weakness for liquor. He sat across the table from him and adroitly stirred up his hatred of Crawford and Sanders. He raked up every grudge his guest had against the two men, calling to his mind how they had beaten him at every turn. "O' course I know, Dug, you're a better man than Sanders or Crawford either, but Malapi don't know it--yet. Down at the Gusher I hear they laugh about that trick he played on you blowin' up the dam. Luck, I call it, but--" "Laugh, do they?" growled the big man savagely. "I'd like to hear some o' that laughin'."