They answered him laughingly and swept on to Kane's place, which they seemed to sense, each for his favorite, drink and game.
The afternoon shadows were long when Ridley, just from the bank, left his rangy bay in front of the hotel and entered the office, nodding to several men he knew. He went on through and stopped at the bar.
"Howd'y, Ed," he grunted. "That SV foreman around? Nelson's his name."
Ed Doane mopped up the bar mechanically and bobbed his head toward the door. "Here he comes now. Make a deal?"
Ridley nodded as he turned. "Hello, Nelson! Read this over. If it's all right, sign it, an' we'll let Ed disfigure it as a witness. I allus like a witness."
Johnny signed it with the pen the bartender provided and then the bartender labored with it and blew on it to dry the ink.
"Disfigure it, hey?" chuckled Ed, pointing to his signature, which was beautifully written but very much over-done. "That bill of sale's worth somethin' now."
Johnny admired it frankly and openly. "I allus did like shadin', an' them flourishes are plumb fetchin'. Me, now; I write like a cow."
"I'm worse," admitted Ridley, chuckling and giving Johnny a roll of bills. "Count 'em, Nelson. Folks usually turn my writin' upside down for th' first try. Speakin' of witnesses, there's another little thing I like. I allus seal documents, Ed. Take 'em out of that bottle you hide under th' bar. Three of 'em. Somehow, Ed, I allus like to see you stoop like that. Well, Nelson; does it count up right? Then, business bein' over, here's to th' end of th' drought."