ast night, when I was drunk.
Head-over-heels drunk, wasn't I? Took you for a friend I knew. Funny.
You don't look a dam' bit like him!"

David shook hands with him. In his first astonishment Brokaw's manner
appeared to him to be quite sincere, and his voice to be filled with
apology. This impression was gone before he had dropped his hand, and he
knew why Hauck's partner had come. It was to get a good look at him--to
make sure that he was not McKenna; and it was also with the strategic
purpose of removing whatever suspicions David might have by an outward
show of friendship. For this last bit of work Brokaw was crudely out of
place. His eyes, like a bad dog's, could not conceal what lay behind
them--hatred, a deep and intense desire to grip the throat of this man
who had tricked him; and his grin was forced, with a subdued sort of
malevolence about it. David smiled back.

"You _were_ drunk," he said. "I had a deuce of a time trying to make you
understand that I wasn't McKenna."

That amazing lie seemed for a moment to daze Brokaw. David realized the
audacity of it, and knew that Brokaw would remember too well what had
happened to believe him. Its effect was what he was after, and if he had
had a doubt as to the motive of the other's visit that doubt disappeared
almost as quickly as he had spoken. The grin went out of Brokaw's face,
his jaws tightened, the red came nearer to the surface in the bloodshot
eyes. As plainly as if he were giving voice to his thought he was
saying: "You lie!" But he kept back the words, and as David noted
carelessly the slow clenching and unclenching of his hands, he believed
that Hauck was not very far away, and that it was his warning and the
fact that he was possibly listening to them, that restrained Brokaw from
betraying himself completely. As it was, the grin returned slowly into
his face.

"Hauck says he's sorry he couldn't have breakfast with you," he said.
"Couldn't wait any longer. The Indian's going to bring your breakfast
here. You'd better hurry if you want to see the fun."

With this he turned and walked heavily toward the end of the hall.
David glanced across at the door of Marge's room. It was closed. Then he
looked at his watch. It was almost nine o'clock! He felt like swearing
as he thought of what he had missed--that breakfast with Hauck and the
Girl. He would undoubtedly have had an opportunity of seeing Hauck alone
for a little while--a quarter of an hour would have b