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"A man who's looking for it usually finds it, Mr. Johnson. A man

that ain't, lives longer and more peaceable." At this point Jed

pulled himself together and bottled his arrogance, remembering

that he had come to make an alliance with this man. "But that's

no way for friends to talk. I got a piece of news for you. We'll

talk it over in the other room and not disturb these gentlemen."

One of the "gentlemen" grinned. He was a round-bodied,

bullet-headed cowpuncher, with a face like burnt leather. He was

in chaps, flannel shirt, and broad-brimmed hat. From a pocket in

his chaps a revolver protruded. "That's right, Jed. Wrap it up

proper. You'd hate to disturb us, wouldn't you?"

"I'll not interrupt you from losing your money more than five

minutes, Yorky," answered Briscoe promptly.

The third man at the table laughed suddenly. "Ay bane laik to

know how yuh feel now, Yorky?" he taunted.