And Mike went out bubbling over, saying to himself with a chuckle: "My, my, my, won't this be a night!"
When he was gone Bill dug out of his inner recesses a bottle and he held it up to the light and rolled it, examining it critically.
"There's all the liquor there is on the place," he said mournfully. "It wouldn't be Christmas to the boys without a drop of something." Then he scratched his head as if trying to think of some way to make it more. "They can at least smell of it and look at the label." And Bill put it on a small table near the closet.
As he turned away two men pushed open the door and entered quietly. They stood for a second to get over the glare and then one said quietly:
"Hello, Bill."
Bill turned.
"Why, hello, Mr. Agent. Hello, Cadger."
The two men shook the snow from their clothes and came down to the fire.
"Heard you people were hard up for grub. Came over to see what we could do for you," said the agent genially.
"Well, say, that's kind," said the simple-minded Bill. "We need it all right."