"Anybody that could insult you could make cows live on malpais an' get fat," sneered Charley. "I've done called you a liar, an' a cheat, an' a thief—"
"Hey! Stop that!" interposed Ackerman. "Quit it; an' have a drink with me. You'd let a man die of thirst, I believes."
Pop shuffled around behind the bar and sullenly produced the bottle and the glasses. "I know, Jim," he apologized; "but you don't know how my patience gets tried!"
Charley snorted. "If they ever tries yore patience they'll lynch it. Here's how, Jim."
"Good luck," said Jim, tossing off the drink.
Charley, walking back toward the card table, caught sight of the well-loaded horse outside; and Pop, taking advantage of the situation, reached swiftly under the bar and slid two Colts toward Ackerman, who frowned and pushed them back. "Some other time," he growled. "Ain't goin' back right away." He pushed his hat back on his head. "Any news?"
"There ain't never any news in this place," answered the proprietor. "But I hear as how th' Circle S has fired Long Pete Carson for stayin' drunk. Long Pete was all het up over it an' lets drive at Holmes. Bein' unsteady he missed Dick an' nicked Harry Kane. Then Dick took th' gun away from him an' give him a beatin'. Dick's hands are shore eddicated. Th' Long T near lost three hosses in that quicksand near Big Bend; an' Smith come near goin' with 'em. An' that Nelson is prospectin' somewhere near th' Circle S, if he ain't left th' country."
"What makes you think that he's mebby left th' country?" inquired Ackerman casually.
"He had his spirit busted when his cabin burned. Said this country was too full of dogs for a white man to live in. But I reckon he'll work around th' Circle S or th' Long T a while before he quits for good."
Charley turned and grunted derisively. "That's all you know about it. He crossed the river near th' Circle S, over Rocky Ford, an' went to Bitter Creek hills."