"You lose," chuckled Dave. "There's one down here, an' some folks think she's considerable. What's more, she's lookin' for a good man to run her dad's ranch, an' get an outfit together, as will stay put. But if you don't like 'em, that loses th' job for you. An' I reckon yo're right lucky at that." "Shore; I know th' kind of a 'good' man they want," said Johnny, reminiscently. "'Good,' meanin' habits only. A man that don't smoke, chew, drink, cuss, get mad, or keep his hat on in th' house. Losin' th' job ain't bendin' my shoulders. I ain't lookin' for work; I'm dodgin' it. Goin' to loaf till my money peters out, which won't be soon. You'd be surprised if you knowed how many people between here an' Montanny think they can play poker. Just now I'm a eddicator. I'm peddlin' knowledge to th' ignorant, an' I ain't no gambler, at that!" Dave chuckled. "There's some around here, too. Now, me; I'm different. I can't play, an' I know it; but, of course, I'll set in, just for th' excitement of it, once in a while, if there ain't nothin' else to do. Come to think of it, I got a deck of cards around here some'rs, right now." The rear door opened and closed. Johnny looked up and saw the worst-looking tramp of his experience. The newcomer picked up a sand-box cuspidor and started with it for the street. "Hi, stranger!" called Johnny. "Ain't that dusty work?" The tramp stiffened. He hardly could believe his ears. The tones which had assailed them were so spontaneously friendly that for a moment he was stunned. It had been a long time since he had been hailed like that--far too long a time. He turned his head slowly and looked and believed, for the grin which met his eyes was as sincere as the voice. It made him honest in his reply. "No," he said, "this here's sand." "But ain't yore throat dusty?" Two-Spot put the box down. "Seems like it allus is. If these boxes _get_ dusty, I'll know how it come about, me bendin' over 'em like I do, an' breathin' on 'em." Johnny laughed. "I take it we're all dusty." He turned to Dave. "Got three left?" Two-Spot walked up to the bar. Usually he sidled. He picked up his glass and held it up to the light, and drank it in three swallows. Usually it was one gulp. Wiping his lips on a sleeve, he pushed back the glass, dug down into a pocket and brought up a silver dollar, which he tossed onto the bar. "Fill 'em again, Dave," he said, quietly. At this Dave's slowly accumulating wonder leaped. He looked at the coin and from it to Two-Spot. Sensing the situation, Johnny pushed it farther along towards the proprietor. "Our friend is right, Dave," he said, "two is company. Make mine th' same."