rum and a kind of cocktail they make along the P. R. R. all the way from
Scranton to Cincinnati--dry gin, French vermouth, one squeeze of a lime,
and a good dash of orange bitters. If you're ever up that way, don't
fail to let one try you. And, again,' says I, 'I have never yet went
back on a friend. I've stayed by 'em when they had plenty, and when
adversity's overtaken me I've never forsook 'em.

"'But,' I goes on, 'this is not exactly the case of a friend. Twelve
dollars a month is only bowing-acquaintance money. And I do not consider
brown beans and corn-bread the food of friendship. I am a poor man,'
says I, 'and I have a widowed mother in Texarkana. You will find Black
Bill,' says I, 'lying asleep in this house on a cot in the room to your
right. He's the man you want, as I know from his words and conversation.
He was in a way a friend,' I explains, 'and if I was the man I once was
the entire product of the mines of Gondola would not have tempted me to
betray him. But,' says I, 'every week half of the beans was wormy, and
not nigh enough wood in camp.

"'Better go in careful, gentlemen,' says I. 'He seems impatient at
times, and when you think of his late professional pursuits one would
look for abrupt actions if he was come upon sudden.'

"So the whole posse unmounts and ties their horses, and unlimbers their
ammunition and equipments, and tiptoes into the house. And I follows,
like Delilah when she set the Philip Steins on to Samson.

"The leader of the posse shakes Ogden and wakes him up. And then he
jumps up, and two more of the reward-hunters grab him. Ogden was mighty
tough with all his slimness, and he gives 'em as neat a single-footed
tussle against odds as I ever see.