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its approval.
    â€œSpeakin’ of the sheriff,” Sam continued with mock concern, “has some body mislaid him? Where is Beaudry?”
    â€œHe’s right here, Sam,” Cash answered for himself from the door. He slapped the dust off his shoulders as he strode in with his chief deputy. He was panting a little breathlessly. “Let me up to the bar; I sure crave a drink.”
    He filled a glass to the brim and dashed the contents off deftly. The crowd was watching him, its attitude a mixture of indifference and hostility.
    â€œThat tip you had was certainly red hot, just as you said,” Sam Swift volunteered. “Suppose you’ve heard the news.”
    â€œI didn’t only hear it, but if I’d had some fresh horses I would have been right in it,” Beaudry enlightened them. “We covered some country since mornin’. Our broncs was staggerin’ when we ran into Tas Cummings’ outfit camped at Cherokee crossing on the Cimarron. I commandeered their horses, but they wa’n’t none too fresh after comin’ up all the way from the North Fork. We kept on down the river until we came to the Skull. We’d just turned up the creek when we heard shootin’. … I knew what it meant.”
    â€œYou must have missed them by just a few minutes,” Sam suggested. His tone was solicitous to the point of being mocking. Beaudry failed to catch it.
    â€œI’d had Smoke dead to rights tonight,” he ground out savagely. “I didn’t intend to waste no time tryin’ to take that bunch alive. It was just the damnedest luck a man ever had that I missed ’em. We came on, best we could, but the train had pulled out before we got there.” He shook his head to express his bitterness. “Wa’n’t no point in tryin’ to overhaul Smoke’s bunch with the stuff we was ridin’.”
    â€œGuess you was doin’ well to get back to Bowie,” Sam declared solemnly.
    â€œJust about crawled in,” Cash agreed. “But I’m promisin’ you I ain’t done!” he burst out with a sudden show of spirit. “This thing’s personal between Smoke and me now! I’ll fetch him!” He banged the bar with his fist to emphasize his words.
    â€œLuck can’t be against us always,” Blackie Chilton, his chief deputy, declared.
    â€œThat’s what I say, Blackie!” There was a calculating light in Beaudry’s eyes as he glanced furtively up and down the bar. He was intent on ascertaining what sort of an impression he had made. An interruption from the end of the bar did not add to his. pleasure.
    â€œWhy don’t you deputize Waco?” a raucous voice demanded.
    â€œSay, that’s no joke!” the sheriff reprimanded the speaker. “I don’t yield to no man in my respect for what he did tonight!” He forced his way up to the old man. “I certainly want to shake your hand, Waco,” he declared humbly. “I never heard of a gamer thing—standin’ up in front of a gang of recognized killers and doin’ what you did! I’m mighty proud of yuh.”
    Waco let him pump his hand. He liked Beaudry as little as did his sons.
    â€œI’m buyin’ for the crowd now!” Cash boomed. “I want you to drink with me to Waco!” He had said nothing about his difficulty with Little Bill. He felt the time was hardly propitious for mentioning it. “Well, here’s to you!” he exclaimed as he raised his glass.
    â€œ ’Bout time you made a speech, Waco,” Sam Swift urged. The crowd took it up, but Waco refused to warm to the idea.
    â€œHis modesty is right becomin’!” Cash laughed. He slapped Waco on the back familiarly. “I bet Smoke Sontag is livin’ up to his name right now. Can you imagine him, boys, when he found that all he’d got was a bunch of Otto Hahn’s Purity Market billheads? I bet his eyes