said so."

"It's awful true, though, Doc. I'm vile myself. Yu' don't know. Why, I
didn't know!"

And then they sat down to confidences and whiskey; for so long as the
world goes round a man must talk to a man sometimes, and both must drink
over it. The cow-puncher unburdened himself to the Governor; and the
Governor filled up his friend's glass with the Eastern whiskey, and
nodded his spectacles, and listened, and advised, and said he should
have done the same, and like the good Governor that he was, never
remembered he was Governor at all with political friends here who
had begged a word or two. He became just Dr. Barker again, the young
hospital surgeon (the hospital that now stood a ruin), and Lin was again
his patient----Lin, the sun-burnt free-lance of nineteen, reckless,
engaging, disobedient, his leg broken and his heart light, with no
Jessamine or conscience to rob his salt of its savor. While he now told
his troubles, the quadrilles fiddled away careless as ever, and the
crack of the billiard balls sounded as of old.

"Nobody has told you about this, I expect," said the lover. He brought
forth the little pistol, "Neighbor." He did not hand it across to
Barker, but walked over to Barker's chair, and stood holding it for the
doctor to see. When Barker reached for it to see better, since it was
half hidden in the cow-puncher's big hand, Lin yielded it to him, but
still stood and soon drew it back. "I take it around," he said, "and
when one of those stories comes along, like there's plenty of, that she
wants to get rid of me, I just kind o' take a look at 'Neighbor' when
I'm off where it's handy, and it busts the story right out of my mind. I
have to tell you what a fool I am."

"The whiskey's your side," said Barker. "Go on."

"But, Doc, my courage has quit me. They see what I'm thinking about just
like I was a tenderfoot trying his first bluff. I can't stick it out no
more, and I'm going to see her, come what will.

"I've got to. I'm going to ride right up to her window and shoot off
'Neighbor,' and if she don't come out I'll know--"

A knocking came at the Governor's room, and Judge Slaghammer entered.
"Not been to our dance, Governor?" said he.

The Governor thought that perhaps he was tired, that perhaps this
evening he must forego the pleasure.

"It may be wiser. In your position it may be advisable," said the
coroner. "They're getting on rollers over there. We do not like trouble
in Drybone, but t