"I don't know yet. Got any cash, Fade? I'm broke."
"Sure. What you want?"
Corliss made a gesture, at which the other laughed. "All right, pardner. I'll fan it for the medicine."
When he returned to the room, Corliss was up and dressed. Contrary to Fadeaway's expectations, the other was apparently himself, although a little too bright and active to be normal.
"Guess I got noisy last night," said Corliss, glancing at Fadeaway's swollen lip.
"Forget it! Have some of this. Then I got to fan it."
"Where are you going?"
"Me? Over to the Blue. Got a job waitin' for me."
Corliss's fingers worked nervously. "When did you say the Concho paid off?" he queried, avoiding the other's eye.
Fadeaway's face expressed surprise. "The Concho? Why, next Monday. Why?"