Skeeter Bill nodded. “I saw Fatty, the bartender, in Temple Rock, and he told me about Hooty. First I’d heard, Muddy. It shore hurt to hear a thing like that, don’tcha know it?” “Hurt me, too,” said Muddy. “Hooty was fine. Margie is workin’ down in the New York Chop House, doin’ her best to keep the kids goin’. We’ve tried to help her, Skeet, but she’s proud.” “Yeah, I bet she is. Whatever became of the Circle E, after they sent Hooty away?” “Well, the law took it over for the bank. Yuh see, the bank was busted flat, and so was most folks around here. Yuh never can sell a thing like that for what it’s worth. In fact, nobody was in shape to buy it, but Sam Keenan finally bought it for about two-bits on the dollar.” Skeeter Bill nodded slowly. “I can understand that, Muddy. But how come Slim Lacey owns the Seven-Up? When I left here he didn’t have a cent.” “Well, it does sound kind of funny, but it jist goes to prove that yuh never can tell which way a dill-pickle will squirt. Buck Hadley wanted to sell out and go back East, and Slim got himself a idea. He was tendin’ bar for Buck at the time. So Slim borrowed money to pay down on the place, and paid it off so much a month. Maybe it ain’t all paid off yet, but he’s doin’ all right. Slim shore turned over a new leaf.” “I’m glad to see him gettin’ ahead,” said Skeeter Bill. “Well, I’ll be headin’ for some food, I reckon, Muddy. See yuh later.” Margie Edwards dropped a tray of dishes flat on the floor, and stood there, staring at Skeeter Bill, ignoring the broken glass and crockery. Only a few people were in the little restaurant at the time. The crash was terrific, bringing the cook-proprietor, Shorty Hale, from the kitchen on the run. He blurted: “My gawsh, can’t yuh even--” and then he stopped, staring up at Skeeter Bill. “Howdy, Shorty,” said Skeeter calmly. “Well--huh--howdy! Skeeter Bill Sarg!” “I’m sorry,” said the woman quietly. “It--it slipped.” “That’s all right,” assured Shorty. “I’ll get a broom.” Margie Edwards looked at Skeeter and down at the mess on the floor. She said, “I’ll be off shift in about ten minutes, Skeeter.” “Sorry I scared yuh,” he smiled slowly. “You didn’t. You shocked me, Skeeter.” Shorty came back with a broom and a dust-pan. Skeeter said, “Shorty, I’d like to have about six eggs, sunny side up, and a lot of coffee. The pie can wait until I’m through.” “Comin’ right up,” grinned Shorty. “My, my, you ain’t changed a bit, Skeeter. Six eggs and coffee--and the pie awaits. Set down with him, Miz Edwards, I’ll do the waitin’ this time.” II Less than an hour later, Skeeter sat with Mrs. Edwards on the porch of their little house, which was only an unpainted shack, discussing the misfortunes of the Edwards family. Margie Edwards was still a pretty woman, in spite of her hard work, trying to keep her family together. The two children were in school. “I hear from Hooty almost every week,” she told Skeeter. “He’s grown bitter.”