At that last unconscious word of derogation the regal beauty of Marcelina changed to a regal scorn and flashing her black eyes she strode towards the door like a tragic queen. "_Gr-ringo!_" she hissed, turning upon him in the doorway, and seizing upon her pail of lard she scampered up the trail. "Hell's fire!" exclaimed the _Tehanno_. "Did she understand what I said?" "That's what," replied Babe, ungraciously, "you done queered yourself with her for life. She won't stand for nothin' aginst her people." "Huh!" grumbled the newcomer, "that's what comes from drinkin' yore pisen whiskey. I begin to savvy now, Pardner, why you passed up that sheep-herder dope and took water." He grinned sardonically, making a motion as of a pin-wheel twirling in his head, but the bar-keeper did not fall in with his jest. "Nothin' of the kind," he retorted. "W'y, boy, I could drink that whole bottle and walk a tight rope. I guess you don't know me—I'm Angevine Thorne, sometimes known as 'Babe'!" He threw out his chest, but the cowboy still looked puzzled. "Did you come through Geronimo," inquired Babe, returning to the attack, "and never heard of me? Well then, Pardner, I'll have to put you wise—I'm Angevine Thorne, the Champion Booze-fighter of Arizona!" He dropped back to his pose and the cowboy contemplated him with grave curiosity. "Mr. Thorne," he said, holding out his hand, "my name is Dalhart—Pecos Dalhart, from Texas—and I'm proud to make your acquaintance. Won't you have a drink on the strength of it?" "Thank you just as much," replied Mr. Thorne, affably, "but I've sworn off. I've been the greatest booze-fighter of Arizona for twenty years, but I've sworn off. Never, never, will I let another drop of liquor pass my lips! I have been sentenced to the Geronimo jail for life for conspicuous drunkenness; I have passed my days in riotous living and my nights in the county jail, but the love of a good mother has followed me through it all and now I am going to quit! I'm saving up money to go home." "Good for you," commented Pecos Dalhart, with the good-natured credulity which men confer upon drunkards, "stay with it! But say, not to change the subject at all, where can I git something to eat around here? I'm ganted down to a shadder."