“Four-year-old! Don’t believe him, boys,” said Dan. “I seen him out in the gulch last night makin’ this. Half a bar’l of rain water, two gallons of alcohol, a plug o’ tobacco and a section o’ barbed wire.” This raised a noisy laugh at Snake’s expense, which he took good-naturedly. Shoshone Pete turned and asked: “Where’s the Angel?” “Yes; where is she?” asked Dan. “The Angel of Hellandgone. Where is she?” inquired Mike. “She’s sure all right, eh?” “She went down the gulch and over the range to Silver Bill’s shack. His wife’s got a new baby, and the Angel went down to help her out,” said Snakes, with conviction. “She can have all mine--dust, sombrero, cayuse, saddle, bridle, lariat, and all!” said Shoshone Pete, earnestly. “The Angel is IT. She is certainly IT, and I can lick the first son of a gun that denies it!” “No chance for a mix-up there, Shoshone. There is not a man from Cheyenne to the Gulch who would not fight for the Angel,” returned Mike. “She is IT, I say. She sure is IT. She is white and gold. That is what she is. White outside and gold within. Set ’em up to the Angel, Snakes.” “My treat,” declared Snakes. “Naw, it’s mine,” declared Dan. “In your mind it is. It’s mine,” said Mike, aggressively, as though he was seeking for an opportunity to fight for the Angel’s honor. “Here, here!” cried Shoshone. “Who spoke first. Are you a set of highway robbers trying to hold me up? Set ’em up, Snakey, and here’s your dust. Hats off, boys.” “To the Angel,” said Mike. “God bless her!” said Shoshone. “It is a long trail to Silver Bill’s. Did she go alone?” asked Shoshone, when the ceremony of toasting the absent Angel had been performed. “Yep,” replied Snakes, gathering the glasses and dipping them into some mysterious liquid in a tub beneath the bar, and which was supposed to be clean water. “There’s mountain lions out that way,” said Dan, mournfully, “but she had her rifle.” “Then there’s nuttin’ to worry over. She can outshoot any galoot in the county. Got a testament, Snakes?” “Sure I have,” said Snakes, producing a sealed pack of cards. “Who is going to sit in?” asked Shoshone Pete, when the four other men instantly signified their willingness to join in a game of poker, and all four gathered around one of the tables, while Shoshone shuffled the cards, saying: “Say, this table here makes me think of when I was telegraph operator----” “I never knowed that,” said Dan. “Well, I used to click the keys at Cody’s Crossin’ and--er--one night, in a blizzard, I tried to run one freight train through another on the same track, killin’ about three hundred yearlin’s. Then I sent in my resign. Let her flicker, pardner.”