Lightning shook his head decidedly.
“Guess he won’t finish that way,” he said.
“How then? Penitentiary?”
Lightning drained his glass again, and the spirit stirred his blood and lit his eyes fiercely.
“No. It won’t be penitentiary either,” he cried emphatically.
Barney eyed the old man shrewdly.
“Guess McCrae ain’t the only boy he’s stung,” he laughed.
Lightning moved away a little unsteadily.
“I don’t know who he’s stung,” he retorted coldly, “but I’ll need to sleep right here to-night. I’m pulling out come mornin’.”
Barney nodded.