Hudson was still a moment, stroking absently his beard. "If you want to know," he said, "I ain't forgotten. But there wasn't just a deed. There was an agreement too." Dave nodded. Hudson's eyes traveled to his rifle,--for the simple reason that he wanted to know just how many jumps he would be obliged to make to reach it in case of emergencies. Such things are good to know in meetings like this. "I know all about that agreement," Dave confessed. "You do, eh? So do I. I ain't likely to forget." Dave studied him closely. "What good is it going to do you to remember?" he demanded. "I ain't saying that it's going to do me any good. At present I ain't got nothing against the Turners. They've always been all right to me. What's between them and the Rosses is past and done--although I know just in what way Folger held that land and no transfer from him to you was legal. But that's all part of the past. As long as the Turners continue to be my friends I don't see why anything should be said about it." Dave did not misunderstand him. He didn't in the least assume that these friendly words meant that he could go back to the ranches with the hundred dollars still in his pocket. It meant merely that Hudson was open to reason and it wouldn't have to be a shooting affair. Dave speculated. It was wholly plain that the old man had not yet heard of Bruce's return. There was no need to mention him. "We're glad you are our friend," Dave went on. "But we don't expect no one to stay friends with us unless they benefit to some small extent by it. How many furs do you hope to take this year?" "Not enough to pay to pack out. Maybe two hundred dollars in bounties before New Year--coyotes and wolves. Maybe a little better in the three months following in furs." "Then maybe fifty or seventy-five dollars, without bothering to set the traps, wouldn't come in so bad." "It wouldn't come in bad, but it doesn't buy much these days. A hundred would do better." "A hundred it is," Dave told him with finality. The eyes above the dark beard shone in the firelight. "I'd forget I had a mother for a hundred dollars," he said. He watched, greedily, as Dave's gaunt hand went into his pocket. "I'm gettin' old, Dave. Every dollar is harder for me to get. The wolves are gettin' wiser, the mink are fewer. There ain't much that I wouldn't do for a hundred dollars now. You know how it is." Yes, Dave knew. The money changed hands. The fire burned down. They sat a long time, deep in their own thoughts. "All we ask," Dave said, "is that you don't take sides against us." "I'll remember. Of course you want me, in case I'm ever subpoenaed, to recall signing the deed itself." "Yes, we'd want you to testify to that."