"Maybe we was a bit hasty. Anyway we can't git on without you. You know that."
This unconditional surrender mollified the magnate some and, as he really wanted to let them know the full extent of their folly, he added:
"The young feller was on the square. It was to his interest to play in with Ladd and the Trust, but instead he cut the agent out of the herd and was a drivin' him to the slaughter-house. This boy held all the cards, and with him as a partner we could have put Ladd out of the game and beat the Trust that's behind him. Now we'll lose everything. You can have my share; divide it among you; it ain't worth fightin' for."
"Mike," called from the door a tough-looking boy with a face as hard as quartz; "there's a feller outside here wants to see you private."
"Tell him to come in and you git home before I tan yer hide."
The proprietor of the saloon made for the urchin with a view to enforcing an unwritten curfew edict, and as he got to the door something in the appearance of the stranger startled him. He stood for a moment looking intently, then walked out into the night.
Johnson and McMurdy joined the poker players.
"Where's Curley?" asked the latter.
"He ain't turned up yet," said Humpy. "We've sent Dick Roach over to see what's become of him. Hello, here's Dick now."
Dick staggered into the saloon and lurched over to the bar, calling for a drink in a husky voice, and repeating the dose at a rate that indicated undue haste even in a practised hand.