Johnny stirred and came back to the scene before him. His face was livid with rage and he could not speak at first. Finally, however, he mastered himself and looked up: "I ’m cured, all right, but _they_ ain’t! Wait till my turn comes! What a fool I was to believe ’em; but they usually tell th’ truth. ’Cura-a-friend nerve’! They ’ll pay me dollar for cent before I ’m finished!" He caught the sparkle of his diamond pin, the pin he had won, when drunk, at El Paso, and a sickly grin flickered over the black frown. "I ’m a little late, I reckon; but I ’d like to give th’ bride a present to show there ain’t no hard feelin’s on my part, an’ to bring her luck. This here pin ain’t no fit ornament for a fool like me, so if it’s all right, I ’ll be plumb tickled to see her have it. How ’bout it, Greener?" The happy pair exchanged glances and Mrs. Greener, hesitating and blushing, accepted the gift: "You can bend it into a ring easy," Johnny hastily remarked, to cut off her thanks. Greener extended his hand: "I reckon we can be friends, at that, Nelson. You squared up with me when you licked Nolan. Come up an’ see us when you can." Johnny thanked him and shook hands and then watched them ride slowly down the canyon, hand in hand, happy as little children. He sat silently, lost in thought, his anger rising by leaps and bounds against the men who had kept him on the anxious seat for a month. Straightening up suddenly, he tore off the navy blue necktie and, hurling it from him, fell into another reverie, staring at the canyon wall, but seeing in his mind’s eye the outfit planning his punishment; and his eyes grew redder and redder with fury. But it was a long way home and his temper cooled as he rode; that is why no one knew of his return until they saw him asleep in his bunk when they awakened at daylight the following morning. And no one ever asked about the diamond, or made any explanations—for some things are better unmentioned. But they paid for it all before Johnny considered the matter closed. THE END