They stood at the bar, full of sentiment, empty of words, memory and affection busy in their hearts. All of them had seen rough days together, and they felt guilty with emotion.
“It's hot weather,” said Wiggin.
“Hotter on Box Elder,” said McLean. “My kid has started teething.”
Words ran dry again. They shifted their positions, looked in their glasses, read the labels on the bottles. They dropped a word now and then to the proprietor about his trade, and his ornaments.
“Good head,” commented McLean.
“Big old ram,” assented the proprietor. “Shot him myself on Gray Bull last fall.”
“Sheep was thick in the Tetons last fall,” said the Virginian.
On the bar stood a machine into which the idle customer might drop his nickel. The coin then bounced among an arrangement of pegs, descending at length into one or another of various holes. You might win as much as ten times your stake, but this was not the most usual result; and with nickels the three friends and the bridegroom now mildly sported for a while, buying them with silver when their store ran out.
“Was it sheep you went after in the Tetons?” inquired the proprietor, knowing it was horse thieves.
“Yes,” said the Virginian. “I'll have ten more nickels.”