He suddenly drew his hand from his mackinaw pocket and held it out, opened, toward Reivers. Two jagged nuggets of dull gold the size of big buckshot jiggled on his palm, and Moir laughed uproariously as Reivers, at the sight of them, bent forward, rubbing his hands together, apparently frantic with avarice. “Eh—hey!” drawled Moir, closing his fist as Reivers’ fingers reached for the gold. “I thought so. ’Tis tub gold thy wants, eh, old sonny? Well, do thee bring me tuh cattle to look at and we’ll try to bargain.” “Come up to my camp,” chattered Reivers, eying the fist that contained the nuggets. He was anxious to get out of the bar. He had no fear that the primitive Moir would be able to see any flaw in his acting, but Black Pete and Jack Raftery were less primitive, and he knew that they had not quite accepted him for the weakling that he pretended to be. “Come and visit me. Buy a bottle of hooch and we go up to my camp.” Moir tossed one of the nuggets across the bar to Raftery. “Is’t good for a round, lad?” he laughed. Raftery cunningly hefted the nugget and set out the bottles. “Good for two,” he replied. Moir tossed over the second nugget. “Then that’s good for four,” said he. “Do ye boys drink it up while I’m away to tuh camp of old sonny here. A bottle, Raftery. Now, sonny, do thee lead on, and if I’m not satisfied I’ll wring thy neck to let thee know my displeasure.” CHAPTER XXXIV—THE BARGAIN Reivers led the way to his tepee and bade Moir wait a moment by the fire, while he spoke to Tillie. “Dress yourself and Neopa in your newest,” he commanded. “Then do you both come in to me, bringing food for two men.” “What’s wrong, sonny?” laughed Moir, seeing Reivers come under the door flap alone. “Hast lost the whip over thy cattle?” “They’re getting some grub ready,” replied Reivers fawningly. “They’ll be here in a minute. Let’s have a drink out of that bottle, mister. That’s the stuff.” He tipped the bottle to his lips and lowered the burning liquor in a fashion that made even Moir open his eyes in admiration. “Takest a man-sized nip for a broken waster, sonny,” he chuckled, and measuring with his fingers on the bottle a drink larger than Reivers’ he tossed it gurgling down his hairy throat. Reivers took the bottle from his hand. “I always take an eye-opener before my real drink,” said Reivers, and, measuring off twice the amount that Moir had taken, he drank it off like so much water.