From the roof of the car another knight of the road signaled, and
thither McWade clambered, kicking off the clutching hand of his
former enemy.

The second traveler was a robust man, deliberate but sure of
movement, and his pockets were filled with nuts and bolts. This
ammunition he divided with his companion, and such was their
unerring aim that they maintained their sanctuary for the
remainder of the journey.

On the way in to Wichita Falls the stranger introduced himself as
Brick Stoner. He was a practical oil man, a driller and a sort of
promoter, too. It was his last pro motion, he confided, that had
made it necessary for him to travel in this fashion. He had many
practical ideas, had Mr. Stoner, as, for instance, the use to be
made of a stick with a crook in it or a lath with a nail in the
end. Armed thus, he declared, it was possible for a man on the
roof of a sleeping car to pick up a completely new wardrobe in the
course of a night's ride, provided the upper berths were occupied
and the ventilators were open. Mr. Stoner deeply regretted the
lack of such a simple aid, but agreed that it was better to leave
well enough alone.

McWade warmed to his traveling companion, and they talked of
many things, such as money and finance, sudden riches, and ways
and means. This led them back naturally to a discussion of
Stoner's latest promotion; he called it the Lost Bull well, and
the circumstances connected therewith he related with a subtlety
of humor rare in a man of his sorts. The nature of the story
appealed keenly to McWade, and it ran like this: Stoner had been