, Sanders, and Chet Fox. The little
man walked between the other two and told his story excitedly.
Dingwell did not wait for them. He had something he wanted to tell
Sweeney and he passed at once into the saloon.

Chapter III

The Old-Timer Sits into a Big Game

The room into which Dingwell had stepped was as large as a public
dance-hall. Scattered in one part or another of it, singly or in
groups, were fifty or sixty men. In front, to the right, was the bar,
where some cowmen and prospectors were lined up before a counter upon
which were bottles and glasses. A bartender in a white linen jacket
was polishing the walnut top with a cloth.

Dave shook his head in answer to the invitation to drink that came to
him at once. Casually he chatted with acquaintances as he worked his
way toward the rear. This part of the room was a gambling resort.
Among the various methods of separating the prodigal from his money
were roulette, faro, keno, chuckaluck, and poker tables. Around these
a motley assemblage was gathered. Rich cattlemen brushed shoulders
with the outlaws who were rustling their calves. Mexicans without a
nickel stood side by side with Eastern consumptives out for their
health. Chinese laundrymen played the wheel beside miners and
cowpunchers. Stolid, wooden-faced Indians in blankets from the
reservation watched the turbid life of the Southwest as it eddied
around them. The new West was jostling the old West into the
background, but here the vivid life of the frontier was making its last
stand.

By the time that Dave had made a tour of two thirds of the room he knew
that Sheriff Sweeney was not among those present. His inquiries
brought out the fact that he must have just left. Dingwell sauntered
toward the door, intending to follow him, but what he saw there changed
his mind. Buck Rutherford and Slim Sanders were lounging together at
one end of the bar. It took no detective to understand that they were
watching the door. A glance to the rear showed Dave two more
Rutherfords at the back exit. That he would have company in case he
left was a safe guess.

The cattleman chuckled. The little devils of mischief already
mentioned danced in his eyes. If they were waiting for him to go, he
would see that they had a long session of it. Dave was in no hurry.
The night was young yet, and in any case the Legal Tender never closed.
The key had been thrown away ten years before. He could sit it o