"Go to hell," Captain told him. And then to Shafer, "Go ahead. Drink her down. Don't mind this space lawyer."
The little man obliged. Belton watched, fascinated.
"Hell, don't I get a nip?" he objected.
"Not a drop," Captain's cold eyes were murderous. "Can't you see, this little fellow's a gentleman? I bet he's seen better days—"
"Haven't we all?" Duane interrupted.
"Leave the little guy alone." Captain thumped Shafer on the back lustily. The little man smiled timidly and tilted the flask again.
"Thanks." He drew the back of his hand across his mouth and held out the flask to Captain.
Captain waved it away airily.
"Nix, I can tell when a guy needs a drink better than I do. I bet you've seen better days. Bet you were richer than this mug who yaps about findin' a load of furs—like he was a damned scavenger."
Belton flushed. "Listen." One hand stole within his tattered jacket.