ousness of a good deed. "It ain't very plentiful around here."

"Well," said Gregg, swinging up his glass, "here's in your eye,
Ronicky, and here's to you, sir!"

"Wait," replied Ronicky Doone. "Hold on a minute, Bill. Looks to me
like you ain't drinking," he said to the proprietor.

The fat man waved the suggestion aside. "Never touch it," he assured
them. "Used to indulge a little in light wines and beers when the
country was wet, but when it went dry the stuff didn't mean enough to
me to make it worth while dodging the law. I just manage to keep a
little of it around for old friends and men out of a dry country."

"But we got a funny habit out in our country. We can't no ways drink
unless the gent that's setting them out takes something himself. It
ain't done that way in our part of the land," said Ronicky.

"It ain't?"

"Never!"

"Come, come! That's a good joke. But, even if I can't be with you,
boys, drink hearty."

Ronicky Doone shook his head. "No joke at all," he said firmly.
"Matter of politeness that a lot of gents are terrible hard set on out
where we come from."

"Why, Ronicky," protested Bill Gregg, "ain't you making it a little
strong? For my part I've drunk twenty times without having the gent
that set 'em up touch a thing. I reckon I can do it again. Here's
how!"

"Wait!" declared Ronicky Doone. And there was a little jarring ring
in his voice that arrested the hand of Bill Gregg in the very act of
raising the glass.

Ronicky crossed the room quickly, took a glass from the washstand and,
returning to the center table, poured a liberal drink of the whisky
into it.

"I dunno about my friend," he went on, almost sternly, to the
bewildered hotel keeper. "I dunno about him, but some gents feel so
strong about not drinking alone that they'd sooner fight. Well, sir,
I'm one of that kind. So I say, there's your liquor. Get rid of it!"

The fat man reached the center table and propped himself against it,
gasping. His whole big body seemed to be wilting, as though in a
terrific heat. "I dunno!" he murmured. "I dunno what's got into you
fellers. I tell you, I never drink."

"You lie, you fat fool!" retorted Ronicky. "Didn't I smell your
breath?"

Bill Gregg dropped his own glass on the table and hurriedly came to
confront his host by the side of Ronicky.

"Breath?" asked the fat man hurriedly, still gasping more and more
heavily for air. "I--I may have taken a small tonic after dinner. In
fac