hit the rocks quicker than you can in any other business on earth. I've followed the range as cattlemen pushed it out here, from the time Custer cleared the Indians off of it and the Union Pacific was put through.
"Yes, I've seen fortunes made at the cattle business, and I've seen 'em lost. Men that could 'a' bought me up with their vest-pocket change one day were hittin' me for money to buy a cowpuncher's outfit the next. Market slumps and Texas fever, and winter storms and summer drouths. Yes, and the heat of gamin' that gets in a cattleman's blood, buckin' the big chance year in and year out. I've known 'em to be cleaned out in a poker game in a night, stakin' and losin' everything, down to the last horse.
"It's a great business, but I'll stick to my hotel. A man can dwindle down gradual at my business, die slow and easy. So, you're thinkin' of the range?"
"I've been thinkin' of it a good while," Bill owned, with more directness than he had answered a question since coming to Pawnee Bend.
"You could hold your own with them," MacKinnon nodded; "your own, and something more. "Well, Will-ium—" turning a shrewd eye to see how the familiarity was received, assured by Bill's slow friendly grin—"Will-ium—"
"They pronounce it Bill where they know me."
"Bill, if you take up that life let the red booze alone, and always leave it to the other man to make the break for his gun, the way you left that poor simpleton to make his play a while ago."
