He paused at the door.
“Anything you need?” he asked.
“Solitude,” said Chuck.
The door slammed hard behind the retreating figure.
Slim laughed and then sobered as he turned to Chuck.
“You’re deliberately stirring that old chap up,” he said. “What’s the idea?”
“Nothing special. I just don’t like his looks. Maybe I can worry a little of the excess fat off him.”
“If you keep up at the rate you started, he’ll be a skeleton by tomorrow morning.”
They washed the grime of the day’s ride off and Slim surveyed the washbowl with distaste.
“It’s easy to see where they got the name ‘Dirty Water’ for this town.”