do
about that. It's his wife that does all the bothering. She's the one that
tends to that. Her bein' a woman and trustin'-like, mebbe, is what makes
it easy to deceive her."

"Oh, they do deceive her, then?"

"Yes'm. There hain't no drinkin' places open public-like. A stranger
couldn't go in there and buy a glass of anything; but them what's known
can get pretty much what they want."

"Someone keeps a speak-easy?"

"Yes'm. Big Bill Kyler gets it every week, and the men get what they
want."

"Bill Kyler--um-m," said the lady. "And where does he get it?"

"Dennis O'Day, the man what owns the brewery and the wholesale house,
sells to him. Big Bill drives down in the afternoon and comes home after
dark."

"Each Saturday, you say?" asked the woman.

"Yes'm."

During the conversation, Elizabeth had also been emptying her lunch-box.
She listened eagerly to the conversation between her companions. This
Dennis O'Day was the man who was doing all in his power to demoralize
Bitumen. She was interested because she knew of him, and moreover, by the
feeling that these questions were asked from more than passing curiosity.

"This O'Day is about at the end of his string," continued the lady. "There
are too many people watching him, eager to find him overstepping the
letter of the law. I can promise you, Mrs. Koons, that he or his friend,
Bill Kyler, will not be long at either Gleasonton or Italee. But come, let
us dispose of the lunch while the babies are taking care of themselves."

She had arranged the repast as daintily as her surroundings would permit.
Several discarded railroad ties served as a table. Over these, she had
spread napkins. Together the three sat at the improvised table until not a
scrap of lunch remained.

"I didn't know how hungry I was," said Mrs. Koons. "We have to drive five
miles to the station and that gets us up pretty early. An' by the time I
got the children up and dressed and got dressed myself, I hadn't no time
to eat much. I was just settin' down when pap drove round and told me I
should hurry up or we'd miss the train, and I couldn't miss it, for Sam
was expectin' me to-day. He's been gettin' his own meals and he wanted me
back home; so I didn't scarcely finish my coffee. I was expectin' that I'd
be home in time for dinner, and I would if the train hadn't been late."

"You can't get to Italee to-night, then," said her benefactress. "There's
only one train a day from Gleasonton to Italee