Tommy’s stride was swift and long for a puncher, due to his agitated frame of mind, and he suddenly slowed it to make an observation to his companion. "Blascom, th’ new marshal is shore quick on th’ gun--this town ought to be right proud of him. I’m admittin’ that he’s a reg’lar he-man." "He’s a cussed sight quicker with his head," replied the miner, "an’ that’s shore sayin’ a large an’ bounteous plenty. If he don’t play no favorites he’s shore as h--l goin’ to need friends, one of these days. I’m admittin’ myself to that cat-e-gory: but it’ll be my hard luck to be out on th’ Buffaler when it starts." Tommy nodded and spat emphatically. "I’ll be a cat, an’ gory, too," he affirmed. "Wild as a wildcat, an’ gory as all h--l. That’s me!" He glanced up quickly. "Talkin’ ceases, for here we are." He tossed the reins over his pony’s head and followed his companion into the hotel, where half a dozen men lounged dispiritedly. Baldy grinned and lost no time in filling the jug, his efforts creating pleasant, anticipatory smackings among the dry onlookers, who from their previous unobserving weariness suddenly snapped into Argus-eyed interest. The alluring gurgle of the wicker-covered demijohn, the _slap-slap, plop-plop_ of the leaping, amber stream, ebbing and flooding spasmodically up and down and around the greenish copper funnel, truly was liquid music to their ears, and the powerful odor of the rye diffused itself throughout the room, penetrated the stale tobacco smoke, and wrought positive reactions upon the olfactory nerves of the staring audience. It was scarce enough by the glass, these days, yet here was a reckless Croesus who was buying it by the gallon! Blascom, smiling with quiet reserve, leaned against the bar to the right of the jug; Tommy, grave and forbidding, leaned against the bar to the left of the jug, both making short and humorous replies to the gift-compelling remarks of the erect crowd. The jug at last filled, Blascom pushed the cork in and slammed it home with a quick, disconcertingly forbidding gesture, which was as cruel as it was final. He paid for the liquor with one of the bills he had won from Tex, nodded briskly, and went out, Tommy bringing up the rear. Reproachful, accusing eyes followed their exit, hoping against hope. A lounger nearest the bar, thirsty as Tantalus, shook his head in sorrowful condemnation. "A man can be mean an’ pe-nurious up to a certain, limit," he observed; "but past that it’s plumb shameful." An old man, his greasy, gray beard streaked with tobacco stains, nodded emphatically. "There _is_ limits; an’ I say that stoppin’ before ye begin is shore beyond ’em!"