“Uh-huh. Boy, I’m tired! What say we hit the hay? Lots to do to-morrow, and early, too.”
They turned and retraced their steps. As they passed the hall in front of which they had made the acquaintance of Maryland, they noticed that the noise had quieted somewhat. A number of men were coming down the steps on their way home. The evening festivities were over. Wise men sought their bunks, so that they might be alert in the morning for whatever gold Lady Luck might bring them.
Silent and Nick were still at their game of double solitaire, played in the tent under the yellow glow of a smoking lantern.
The brothers stood over Silent, gazing down at the box the two were using for a table.
“How you coming?” Teddy asked.
“Fair. Say,” he sniffed, and touched Roy’s gun. “Practicing?”
“What? Oh, you can tell it’s been fired? No, Silent, it wasn’t practice.” He told him and Nick of the occurrence. “We’ve got to expect those things, I reckon.”
“Uh-huh, reckon so. Nick an me’ll bunk here—that the idea?”
“That’s it. Well, pleasant dreams.”
Teddy and Roy walked out of the tent. Their shelter had been set up about ten feet away. They found their way to it and lit the lantern. Then, perhaps because they should have turned in immediately, they sat and talked until the flickering wick of their lantern recalled the time to them.