"I—we don't know. I was in the kitchen, and—" but Brent had dashed from the room, and when Reeves found his hat, the madman had disappeared in the darkness.
Quite a group of old timers had foregathered at
Stoell's, Moosehide Charlie drifted in, and seeing Camillo Bill, Swiftwater Bill, and Old Bettles standing at the bar, he joined them.
"What do you say we start a regular old he-man's game of stud?" he asked. "We ain't had no real game fer quite a while."
Camillo Bill shook his head slowly: "No—not fer me. I'll play a reasonable game—but do you know since Ace-In-The-Hole went plumb to hell the way he done over the game—I kind of took a dislikin' to it."
"It was the hooch, more'n the stud," argued Bettles.
"Mebbe it was—but, damn it! It was 'em both. There was one hombre I liked."
"Wonder if he'll come back?" mused Swiftwater Bill.
"Sure as hell!" affirmed Camillo.
"Will he have sense enough to lay off the hooch?"