“They may get lost in the snow,” said the humorous Half-past. “I'll just show 'em the trail.” Once more he rose from the dinner and went out. “Yes, he knew too much to bring it in here,” said Drake to Bolles. “He knew none but two or three would dare drink, with me looking on.” “Don't you think he is afraid to bring it in the same room with you at all?” Bolles suggested. “And me temperance this season? Now, Bolles, that's unkind.” “Oh, dear, that is not at all what--” “I know what you meant, Bolles. I was only just making a little merry over this casualty. No, he don't mind me to that extent, except when he's sober. Look at him!” Half-past was returning with his friends. Quite evidently they had all found the trail. “Uncle Pasco is a nice old man!” pursued Drake. “I haven't got my gun on. Have you?” “Yes,” said Bolles, but with a sheepish swerve of the eye. Drake guessed at once. “Not Baby Bunting? Oh, Lord! and I promised to give you an adult weapon!--the kind they're wearing now by way of full-dress.” “Talkin' secrets, boss?” said Half-past Full. The well-meaning Sam filled his cup, and this proceeding shifted the buccaroo's truculent attention. “What's that mud?” he demanded. “Coffee,” said Sam, politely. The buccaroo swept his cup to the ground, and the next man howled dismay. “Burn your poor legs?” said Half-past. He poured his glass over the victim. They wrestled, the company pounded the table, betting hoarsely, until Half-past went to the floor, and his plate with him. “Go easy,” said Drake. “You're smashing the company's property.” “Bald-headed china for sure, boss!” said a second of the brothers Drinker, and dropped a dish. “I'll merely tell you,” said Drake, “that the company don't pay for this china twice.” “Not twice?” said Half-past Full, smashing some more. “How about thrice?” “Want your money now?” another inquired. A riot of banter seized upon all of them, and they began to laugh and destroy. “How much did this cost?” said one, prying askew his three-tined fork. “How much did you cost yourself?” said another to Drake. “What, our kid boss? Two bits, I guess.” “Hyas markook. Too dear!” They bawled at their own jokes, loud and ominous; threat sounded beneath their lightest word, the new crashes of china that they threw on the floor struck sharply through the foreboding din of their mirth. The spirit that Drake since his arrival had kept under in them day by day, but not quelled, rose visibly each few succeeding minutes, swelling upward as the tide does. Buoyed up on the whiskey, it glittered in their eyes and yelled mutinously in their voices. “I'm waiting all orders,” said Bolles to Drake. “I haven't any,” said Drake. “New ones, that is. We've sat down to see this meal out. Got to keep sitting.”