Whisky Williams told me so. That girl's got his motorboat, though—I don't make nothing of it."
"Who's Urleigh?"
"Oh, probably some grafter—Dan's always picking up that kind."
"Well, maybe he ain't, now—maybe he's a soft-paw, and Dan may be givin' him his lessons."
"You can bet Dan'll look out for hisself. Course, he may be just boardin' with Urleigh."
"Like's not we'll know more about it. They'll be dropping in down here in Mendova d'rectly. I been kinda suspicioning about that Dan. He ain't been on the river in a long time now—'ceptin' just to say howdy. Now he drops down, out'n the Ohio, and when he's shot, he comes back on the river. Course, likely as not he's afteh that gasolene of his'n, if that gal did pirate it off'n him. Gawd help her if he is! Dan's mean when he aims to be. Course, I never knowed of his mussin' up women, but you know, ten-twelve years ago, he was a young feller then mebby twenty, mebby eighteen, but a wise one.
"Well, as I was sayin', they was a little old feller name of Storit run a whisky boat down b'low, round Arkansaw Old Mouth. He always had a lot of money, and he was keerless, besides wearing more diamonds 'an any shantyboater I ever got to hear about be-
