repentant Corliss, whose stubbornness had given way to tearful
retraction and reiterated apology. Of course they were friends!

They drank and Fadeaway noticed the other's increasing pallor. "Jest
about one more and he'll take a sleep," soliloquized the cowboy. "In
the mornin' 's when I ketch him, raw, sore, and ready for anything."

One of the cowboys helped Corliss to his room at the Palace. Later
Fadeaway entered the hotel, asked for a room, and clumped upstairs. He
rose early and knocked at Corliss's door, then entered without waiting
for a response.

He wakened Corliss, who sat up and stared at him stupidly. "Mornin',
Billy. How's the head?"

"I don't know yet. Got any cash, Fade? I'm broke."

"Sure. What you want?"

Corliss made a gesture, at which the other laughed. "All right,
pardner. I'll fan it for the medicine."

When he returned to the room, Corliss was up and dressed. Contrary to
Fadeaway's expectations, the other was apparently himself, although a
little too bright and active to be normal.

"Guess I got noisy last night," said Corliss, glancing at Fadeaway's
swollen lip.

"Forget it! Have some of this. Then I got to fan it."