Skinny laughed shortly: "Why, can’t you see it? Last year I beat Dick Bradley out with a woman over in Ballard. Then his fool brother tried to cut in an’ beat me out. Cards? H—l!" he snorted, walking towards the door. "You an’ everybody else knows—" he stopped suddenly and jerked his gun loose as a shadow fell across the doorsill. Then he laughed and slapped the newcomer on the shoulder: "Hullo, Ace, my boy! You had a narrow squeak then. You want to make more noise when you turn corners, unless somebody ’s looking for you with a gun. How are you, anyhow? An’ how’s yore dad? I ’ve been going over to see him regular, right along, but I ’ve been so busy I kept putting it off." "Dad’s better, Skinny; an’ I’m feeling too good to be true. What ’ll you have?" "Reckon it’s my treat; you wet last th’ other time. Ain’t that right, Quigg? Shore, I knowed it was." "All right, here’s luck," Ace smiled. "Quigg, that’s better stock; an’ would you look at th’ style—real curtains!" Quigg grinned. "Got to have ’em. I ’m on th’ sunny side of th’ street." "I hear yo ’re goin’ North," Ace remarked. "Yes, I am; but how ’d you know about it?" "Why, it ain’t no secret, is it?" asked Ace in surprise. "If it is, you must ’a’ told a woman. I heard of it from th’ crowd—everybody seems to know about it. Yo ’re going up alone, too, ain’t you?" "Well, no, it ain’t no secret; an’ I am going alone," slowly replied Skinny. "Here, have another." "All right—this is on me. Here’s more luck." "Where is th’ crowd?" "Keeping under cover for a while to give you plenty of elbow room," Ace replied. "He’s sober as a judge, Skinny, an’ mad as a rattler. Swears he ’ll kill you on sight. An’ his brother ain’t with him; if he does come in too soon I ’ll see he don’t make it two to one. Good luck, an’ so-long," he said quickly, shaking hands and walking towards the door. He put one hand out first and waved it, slowly stepping to the street and then walking rapidly out of sight.