"What's he got to do with it?"

"That's what I was tryin' to figger out. But, hey, Cinnabar, how about
that drink? I'm dry as a post-hole."

"Fill 'em up, Cinnabar. I'm makin' this noise," seconded Purdy. And
as the Texan turned to greet an acquaintance, he caught out of the tail
of his eye the glance that flashed between Purdy and the bartender.
Noticed, also out of the tail of his eye, that, contrary to custom,
Cinnabar filled the glasses himself and that a few drops of colourless
liquid splashed from the man's palm into the liquor that was shoved
toward him. The Texan knew that Purdy had watched the operation
interestedly and that he straightened with an audible sigh of relief at
its conclusion. "Come on, drink up!" Purdy raised his glass as Tex
faced the bar with narrowed eyes.

"What's them fellows up to?" cried Cinnabar Joe, and as Purdy turned,
glass in hand, to follow his glance Tex saw the bartender swiftly
substitute his own glass for the one into which he had dropped the
liquid.

The next instant Purdy was again facing him. "What fellers?" he asked
sharply.

Cinnabar Joe laughed: "Oh, that Bear Paw Pool bunch. Fellow's got to
keep his eye peeled whenever they git their heads together. Here's
luck."

For only an instant did Tex hesitate while his brain worked rapidly.
"There's somethin' bein' pulled off here," he reasoned, "that I ain't