"Is that the story you want to have circulated?" Dan asked, with the suspicion of a whimsical twinkle.
"Just as you like," said Ralph stiffly.
They returned to Maroney's for supper. Entering the dining-room they saw that there were only two vacant places remaining at the general table. As Ralph put his hand on his chair to draw it out, the fat back on his left was turned, and he found himself looking into the leering, swollen face of Joe Mixer. He waited, stiffening.
Joe sprang up. "Hello, Doc!" he cried jovially. "Welcome home! Just dropped down on a raft myself. They tell me you been having grand adventures. Sit down and tell us!"
Ralph was obliged to shake the detestable hand or precipitate a conflict on the spot.
The meal proceeded without further incident. It was not an observant crowd, and only one pair of sharp eyes across the table marked Ralph's stiffness and perceived the painful glitter in Joe's little eyes when he thought himself unobserved.
Stack patiently bided his time. Later in the evening Ralph and Dan went away together to Ralph's shack. Stack manoeuvred until he succeeded in getting Joe a little way from the others.
"I got a bottle of outside whiskey up in my room," Stack whispered. "Come on up and have a touch."
"Outside whiskey" was worth five dollars a bottle at Fort Edward. "Sure!" said Joe brightening, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand in anticipation. "Keep it quiet," he said. "There ain't enough in one bottle for the crowd."
They sat with the bottle between them. Stack played the role of the humble seeker after information about the country until he thought Joe had had enough to render him incautious.