The other returned no answer, but let his eyes rove vacantly over the room, and since his head was turned the other way, Haw-Haw Langley allowed a sneer to twist at his lips for a moment.
"If I had the price," he said, "we'd have another drink."
"I ain't drinkin'," answered the giant monotonously.
"Then I'll go up and bum one off'n Pale Annie. About time he come through with a little charity."
So he unfurled his length and stalked through the crowd up to the bar.
Here he leaned and confidentially whispered in the ear of Pale Annie.
"Partner, I been sprinklin' dust for a long time in here, and there ain't been any reward. I'm dry, Annie."
Pale Annie regarded him with grave disapproval.
"My friend," he said solemnly, "liquor is the real root of all evil. For my part, I quench my thirst with water. They's a tub over there in the corner with a dipper handy. Don't mention it."
"I didn't thank you," said Haw-Haw Langley furiously. "Damn a tight-wad, say I!"
The long hand of Pale Annie curled affectionately around the neck of an empty bottle.