"All."
"Who told you?"
"Well," said Foss, "he's a fellow I've met around considerable, and he is called Nappa Bill."
"Nappa Bill!" repeated Jack. "That's the fellow I shot in San Francisco."
"Maybe—he wears one arm in a sling," replied Foss, carelessly.
"Will you breakfast with me?" perused Jack.
"I'll take a cocktail. Fact is, I'm not much on eating to-day."
"Why not? Has anything occurred to take away your appetite, may I ask?"
"I'm in mourning for a five-hundred dollar horse that died of the glanders, yesterday, and it isn't ten to one that I don't spill you out of the coach before I get you up the hill."
Jack invited him into the breakfast-room and introduced him to his companions.