But the nerves of Trampas were almost beyond the reach of intoxication, and he swallowed some more, and went out again. Presently he fell in with some of his brothers in cattle stealing, and walked along with them for a little.
"Well, it will not be long now," they said to him. And he had never heard words so desolate.
"No," he made out to say; "soon now." Their cheerfulness seemed unearthly to him, and his heart almost broke beneath it.
"We'll have one to your success," they suggested.
So with them he repaired to another place; and the sight of a man leaning against the bar made him start so that they noticed him. Then he saw that the man was a stranger whom he had never laid eyes on till now.
"It looked like Shorty," he said, and could have bitten his tongue off.
"Shorty is quiet up in the Tetons," said a friend. "You don't want to be thinking about him. Here's how!"
Then they clapped him on the back and he left them. He thought of his enemy and his hate, beating his rage like a failing horse, and treading the courage of his drink. Across a space he saw Wiggin, walking with McLean and Scipio. They were watching the town to see that his friends made no foul play.
"We're giving you a clear field," said Wiggin.
"This race will not be pulled," said McLean.
"Be with you at the finish," said Scipio.
And they passed on. They did not seem like real people to him.
Trampas looked at the walls and windows of
