got a streak of the Old Nick in him. And Allie ain't broke no
better 'n him. I got a feelin' there may be trouble ahead, an'
--sometimes I 'most wish we'd never had no oil in Texas."



CHAPTER VI

"Well, did you land them hicks?" It was Gray's driver speaking.
Through the gloom of early evening he was guiding his car back
toward Ranger. The road was the same they had come, but darkness
had invested it with unfamiliar perils, or so it seemed, for the
headlights threw every rock and ridge into bold relief and left
the holes filled with mysterious shadows; the vehicle strained,
its motor raced, its gears clashed noisily as it rocked along like
a dory in a boisterous tide rip. Only now and then did a few rods
of smooth going permit the chauffeur to take his attention from
the streak of illumination ahead long enough to light another
cigarette, a swift maneuver, the dexterity of which bespoke long
practice.

"Yes. And I made a good sale," the passenger declared. With pride
he announced the size of the Briskow check.

"J'ever see a dame the size of that gal?" A short laugh issued
from the driver. "She'd clean up in vaudeville, wouldn't she? Why,
she could lift a ton, in harness. And hoein' the garden, with
their coin! It's like a woman I heard of: they got a big well on
their farm and she came to town to do some shoppin'; somebody told
her she'd ought to buy a present for her old man, so she got him a