When the flames were well caught Jim said, "See that he leaves camp, Bill." Then he mounted and rode away.
Murphy looked after him curiously. "Some man, ain't he?" he said to Bill.
"I'll eat out of his hand any time," replied Bill. "Get your pony, Murphy."
"I'll join your posse," suggested Murphy. "I bet I can ferret out more booze than any three of you."
"Nothing doing!" growled Bill. "Should think you would have better taste than to wanta do that."
Murphy shrugged his shoulders. "I want you to let me go up to that Greek fellow's place before I go," he said.
Bill stared but made no comment.
As Jim rode back through the lower town he stopped young Hartman, the government photographer.
"Hartman," he asked, "have the films for the movies come in yet?"
"Came in yesterday, Mr. Manning."