"For the love of Pete!" I cried. "Was there some of that stuff in there all the time I've been carrying it around?"
"It's packed good: it can't go off," Artie reassured us. "I know my biz."
"What in God's name do you want such stuff for!" cried Judson.
"Oh, just emergencies," answered Brower, vaguely, but I remembered his uncanny skill in opening the combination of the safe. Possibly that contract between Emory and Hooper had come into his hands through professional activities. However, that did not matter.
"I can make a drop of soup go farther than other men a pint," boasted Artie. "I'll show you: and I'll show that old——"
"You'll probably get shot," observed Buck, watching him closely.
"W'at t'hell," observed Artie with an airy gesture.
"It's the dope he takes," I told Johnson aside. "It only lasts about so long. Get him going before it dies on him."
"I see. Trot right along," Buck commanded.
Taking this as permission Brower clapped heels to the stallion and shot away like an arrow.