Harper nodded wonderingly.
"Well, they ain't no good at all—not unless I sign it!" said Bill, triumphantly.
Harper laughed; handed Bill the money for the check, and, with a final "Good-night!" hurried out of the door. Bill poked his head out, watching him crank his machine and drive away in the moonlight.
When the car was out of sight Bill turned back into the middle of the room and stood watching Marvin, who had sat down and was eating his delayed supper.
"Better join me, Bill," Marvin again invited, and at the same time noting a change in the old man's manner, now that they were alone.
"No," Bill said; "I had mine with the boys outside, as I told you—but I'll have a drink with you, John," he added, hesitatingly, knowing Marvin's disapproval of his drinking.
"I haven't anything in the house, Bill," said Marvin, as he went on eating. "You know that."
Bill edged slowly toward the table, his hand in the back pocket of his baggy, slouchy trousers. "Yes, you have," he remarked, producing a half-filled flask.
"You mean you have," Marvin replied, trying not to smile. "And you've had enough for to-night. Put it away, Bill, and promise me not to drink any more to-night."
"All right, John," said Bill, unconcernedly, and putting the flask back in his pocket. "I promise—an' I 'ain't never broke a promise yet! I'll keep this for—for emergencies. Say, Oscar told me the railroad had the sheriff after you. You remember the last promise what I give you?"