"Well, I'll say good-night now," said Dewing. "See you after supper?"

"Oh, I'll side you a ways yet. Goin' up to the shack to unsaddle. Always
like to have my horse eat before I do. And you'll not see me after
supper--not unless you are up at the post-office. I'm done with cards."

"I'd like to have a little chin with you to-morrow," said Dewing. "Not
about cards. Business. I'm sick of cards, myself. I'll never be able to
live 'em down--especially with this pleasing nickname of mine. I want
to talk trade. About your ranch: you've still got your wells and
water-holes? I was thinking of buying them of you and going in for the
straight and narrow. I might even stock up and throw in with you--but you
wouldn't want a partner from the wrong side of the table? Well, I don't
blame you--but say, Stan, on the level, it's a funny old world, isn't
it?"

"I'm going to take the stage to-morrow. See you when I come back. I'll
sell. I'm reformed about cattle, too," said Stan.

At the ball ground he bade Dewing good-night. The latter rode on to his
own hostelry at the other end of town. Civilization patronized the
Admiral Dewey as nearest the railroad; mountain men favored the Mountain
House as being nearest to grass.

Stanley turned up a side street to the one-roomed adobe house on the edge
of town that served as city headquarters for himself and Johnson. He
unsaddled in the little corral; he brought a feed of corn for brown
Awguan; he brought currycomb and brush and made glossy Awguan's sleek
sides, turning him loose at last, with a friendly slap, to seek pasture