Two buccaroos next left the room together.
“They may get lost in the snow,” said the humorous Half-past. “I'll just show 'em the trail.” Once more he rose from the dinner and went out.
“Yes, he knew too much to bring it in here,” said Drake to Bolles. “He knew none but two or three would dare drink, with me looking on.”
“Don't you think he is afraid to bring it in the same room with you at all?” Bolles suggested.
“And me temperance this season? Now, Bolles, that's unkind.”
“Oh, dear, that is not at all what—”
“I know what you meant, Bolles. I was only just making a little merry over this casualty. No, he don't mind me to that extent, except when he's sober. Look at him!”
Half-past was returning with his friends. Quite evidently they had all found the trail.
“Uncle Pasco is a nice old man!” pursued Drake. “I haven't got my gun on. Have you?”
“Yes,” said Bolles, but with a sheepish swerve of the eye.