"I'll tell you presently. You're not looking overfed anyway." Nap's fingers began to feel along his wrist. "Did Capper say he wanted a skeleton to work on?"
"Shucks, dear fellow! There's more than enough of me. Tell me about yourself. What have you been doing? I want to know."
"I?" Nap jerked back his head. "I've nothing to tell," he declared. "You know what I went to do. Well, I've done it, and that's all there is to it."
"I'm not quite clear as to what you went to do," Lucas answered. "You didn't turn up in Arizona. I was puzzled what to think."
"You never expected me to go to Arizona," said Nap with conviction. "You were shrewd enough for that."
"Thanks, Boney! P'r'aps I was. But I've been hoping all this while, nevertheless, that you might have the grit to keep the devil at arm's length."
Nap laughed, stretched his arms above his head, and made a vehement gesture as if flinging something from him—something that writhed and clung.
"Will it interest you to know that the devil has ceased to provide me with distractions?" he asked suddenly.
A certain eagerness came into the blue eyes. "That so, Boney?"
Nap leaned back and stared at the ceiling. "It's no virtue of mine," he said. "I found I wanted solitude, so I went to the Rockies and stayed there till I was tired. That's all."