I had him figured. It was a pretty good bet he wouldn't try to draw. But if he had made a move--"

"Ahuh. It'd been all day with him. . . . This gambler, Stud, has a name out here for bein' swift on the draw. He's killed--"

"Bah!" cut in Wall, good-humoredly. "Men who can handle guns don't pack them that way."

"Wal, he's the first I ever seen out here, at thet," replied Hays.

"You see, when I called him I had my eyes on his hands, which was flat on the table. I thought I could shoot him easy enough an' was a mind to do it. But, hell's fire, how easy he could have bored me!"

"No, he couldn't, with me standing here. . . . Let's go to bed, Hays. I'm sleepy."

"Good idee. We'll all go. Have a drink on me."

They lined up at the bar.

"Jim," said Hays, poising his glass, "funny how a man figgers another. Not only you figgerin' Stud, but down at the ferry, when I met you, I had sort of a hunch you'd be a feller to tie to.

Here's lookin' at you!"

Presently they bade Red good night and went outside. The night was dark, windy, cold. Dust whisked along the road, rustling, seeping.

The stars blinked white. Black and grim the cliff wall stood up, seemingly to tower over the town.

"Where you sleepin'?" asked Hays.

"Left my pack in the stall out back with my horse."

"You don't call thet pack a bed, do you? Come sleep in a real bed."

"I'll make out all right. What do we do tomorrow?"

"I was thinkin' of thet. We'll shake the dust of Green River. It might not be healthy for us, seein' this is Morley's hangout.

Besides, I'm flush with money. I'd only lose it. So I reckon tomorrow we'd better stock up on everythin' an' hit the trail for the Henrys."

"Suits me," replied Wall. "How about you, Brad?"

"I'll go, Hank, but it's only because nothin' else offers. This new deal of yours, as I size it up, will come to the awfulest mess ever."

"Ahuh.