"Why, yes; an' much obliged," answered Johnny. Dave pointed his finger and his whole arm at the broom lying across the table. "That yourn?" he demanded. Two-Spot looked. "I told you that my mem'ry was bad," he chuckled. Putting the broom away where it belonged he went out and led Pepper around to the shed. Johnny looked hard at Dave. "That was a good turn, Dave," he said. "What made you do it?" Dave rumpled his hair. "Squint's missin', which means one customer less. Bein' a stranger down here I reckoned they'd pass th' buck to you. That meant they'd likely do it here--th' Doc come up to locate you, I figgered. Besides losin' a lot more customers I'd have to clean up a slaughter-house. I just made up my mind I wouldn't do it. Anyhow, I'd like to shake hands with th' coyote that lugged th' Doc off to fix that laig. I would so." "Don't blame you," said Johnny, holding out his hand. "We can shake on that, all right. I say a doctor is a doctor an' ought to go where he's needed." Dave looked him full in the eyes, a quizzical smile playing around his mouth, and shook hands gravely, solemnly. It was almost a ceremony. "My sentiments, exactly," he responded. "Wonder if Squint was hurt?" "I'd bet he wasn't," answered Johnny. "I'd even bet he went to a different part of th' country. Mebby he got caught in some devilment. Punchers are great for roamin'--just look where _I_ am." He shook his head sadly and went out through the rear door for the hotel, leaving Dave with a grin on his face which threatened to disrupt it. He had not gone more than a few steps when he turned and went back. Poking his head in at the door, he said: "Dave, when I'm drinkin' in here, an' it can be done easy, just see that mine is some watery. I like th' delicate flavor it has that way; th' delicater, th' better." Dave chuckled and nodded. "Yo're drinkin' it. If yo're satisfied, I am. I can't do it at th' bar, where th' bottle passes; but it'll be easy if yo're playin' cards." CHAPTER VII HUNTING WITH THE HOUNDS Johnny entered the kitchen, looked at the stove and went into the dining-room, where George was playing solitaire. "That's a bad habit, George," he said, shaking his head. "It don't get you nothin'." George made a play and looked up. "Aimin' to get me into a two-handed game of somethin'?" he queried. "No; I ain't," answered Johnny. "I was just wonderin' how long you was goin' to play it." "I'm goin' to play it till I have to start cookin'," said George, determinedly. "Then you ain't goin' to stand over that hot stove for more'n an hour, are you?" "No, sir; I ain't." "You talk like it was somethin' to dodge!" snorted Johnny. "I'd like to see _you_ do it!" retorted George. "Huh!" sniffed Johnny. "I got a good notion to do it." George made another play. "Notions!" he sneered. "Notions ain't doin' it!"