"Well—now—I was just a-thinkin' 'bout th' lady as seemed right vexed when you dropped yore roll to Dave." He looked casually at Slick, behind the bar, while he was saying it.
"Little Nell? I don't owe her nothin', neither. It was my pile,—all of it."
Buck heaved a sigh of relief. "I 'm right glad to hear it. Then you 'll be all ready to hit th' trail with me in th' mornin'?" he asked.
"Shore; but s'pos'n you can't get th' ranch?" suggested Ned.
"I 'll get it. An' when I get it I 'll run it, too, less'n they load me with lead too heavy to sit a horse—then you 'll run it." His smile was infectious.
"Cheyenne, I like yore style. Put 'er there," and he shoved a huge, hairy fist at Buck. "'Nother thing," he went on, "Chesty an' Bow-Wow was a-goin' over to th' Bitter Root. I 'll tell 'em to hang 'round for a spell. Them 's two good boys. So 's Dutchy—when he ain't a-runnin' after Pickles."
"All right; you talk to 'em. See you in th' mornin'," and with a general good-night, Buck went to his room.
Chesty and Bow-Wow joined Ned to have a "night cap" and say good-bye, intending to start early next morning. "No, boys, I 've had enough," said Ned. "I 've took a job with Cheyenne, an' you boys better hang 'round. Find Dutch in th' mornin' an' tell him. An' I 'm a-goin' to turn in, too. I 'm cussed sleepy." The other two sat staring across the table at one another. The news seemed too good to be true.
"Ha! Ha!" barked Bow-Wow, "I never did like them d—n Bitters, not nohow."
Chesty nodded his head. "Me, too," he agreed. "Son, there 's a big time due in these parts: I feel it in my bones."