"Right off!" ejaculates Woods, banging the bell for two more cocktails.
Jaggers drains the fiery compound. He whispers with burning breath in Woods' ears:
"Make it a cool thousand, and swear you'll look out for me. I'll give the thing dead away. You know what a son-of-a-gun Hardin is?"
Woods bows. He DON'T know, but he is going to find out. "I'll give you a job in my mine (the Golden Chariot), as time-keeper. You can keep drunk all your life, except at roll-call. If Hardin hunts you up there, I'll have the foreman pitch him down the shaft. Is this square?"
"Honor bright!" says Jaggers, extending his palm. "Honor bright!" says Joseph, who dares not look too joyous.
Jaggers muses over another cocktail. "You go to the bank, and get a thousand dollars clean stuff. Give me a coup‚. I'll give you the things you want, in half an hour. I've got 'em stowed away. Don't follow me!"
Woods nods, and throws him a double-eagle. "I'll be here when you come back. Keep sober till we're done. I'll give you a pass to Virginia City, so you can finish your drunk in high altitudes. It's healthier, my boy!" Joe winks.
Jaggers is off like a shot. Colonel Joseph walks two blocks to the bank. He returns with fifty yellow double-eagles.
"Got to fight coyote style to catch a coyote!" is the murmur of Colonel Woods to his inward monitor. "It's for the fatherless kid."
"Barney," impressively says Joseph, "make me a good cocktail this time! Send 'em in, ANY WAY, when that young man returns. His life is insured. I have to work for a living. Make one for yourself. YOU are responsible."