Will Corliss stared at his brother; then laughed.

"Have one with me, Jack. You didn't used to be afraid of it."

"I'm not now, but I'm not going to take a drink with you."

"Sorry. Well, here's looking." And the brother poured himself a
half-tumblerful of whiskey and gulped it down. "Now, let's talk
business."

Corliss smiled despite his disgust. "All right. You talk and I'll
listen."

The brother slouched to the bed and sat down. "How's the Concho been
making it?" he asked.

"We've been doing pretty fair. I've been busy."

"How's old man Loring?"

"About the same."

"Nell gone into mourning?"

Corliss frowned and straightened his shoulders.

"See here, Will, you said you'd talk business. I'm waiting."

"Touched you that time, eh? Well, you can have Nell and be damned. No
Mexican blood for mine."