Again Bartley nodded.

"It ain't a bad country to settle down in, for folks that likes to
settle," said Cheyenne.

Bartley glanced sharply at his companion. Cheyenne was gazing straight
ahead. His face was unreadable.

"Now if I was the settlin' kind--" He paused and slowly turned toward
Bartley. "A man could raise alfalfa and chickens and kids."

"Go ahead," laughed Bartley.

"I'm goin'--to-morrow mornin'. And you say you figure to stay here a
spell?"

"Oh, just a few days. I imagine I shall grow tired of it. But to-night,
I feel pretty well satisfied to stay right where I am."

Cheyenne rose and strode to the bar. After a short argument with the
proprietor, he returned with a bottle and glasses. Bartley raised his
eyebrows questioningly.

"Once in a while--" And Cheyenne gestured toward the bottle.

"It's powerful stuff," said Bartley.

"We ain't far from the hotel," declared Cheyenne. And he filled their
glasses.