wenty-gallon tank on this car; well, it holds
twenty-five. I've got a special carburetor that gives an actual
mileage of twenty-two miles to the gallon on ordinary desert roads. I
filled 'er till she run over at Victorville--and I notice you're easy
on the gas with your drivin'. Figure it yourself, Casey, and don't be
countin' on a stop till I'm ready t' stop."

Casey grunted, more crestfallen than he would ever admit. But he hadn't
given up; the give-up quality had been completely forgotten when
Casey's personality was being put together. He drove on, around the
rubbly base of a blackened volcano long since cold and bleak, and bored
his way through the sandy stretch that leads through Patmos.

Patmos was a place of unhappy memories, but he drove through the little
hamlet so fast that he scarcely thought of his unpleasant sojourn there
the summer before. Young Kenner had fallen silent again and they drove
the sixty miles or so to Goffs with not a word spoken between them.

Casey spent most of that time in mentally cursing the Ford for its
efficiency. He had prayed for blowouts, a fouled timer, for something
or anything or everything to happen that could possibly befall a Ford.
He couldn't even make the radiator boil. Worst and most persistent of
his discomforts was the hard pressure of that six-shooter against his
side. Casey was positive that the imprint of it would be worn as a
permanent brand upon his person for the rest of his life. Young
Kenner's voice speaking to him came so abruptly that Casey jumped.

"I've been thinking over your case," Kenner said cheerfully. "Stop
right here while we talk it over."

Casey stopped right there.

"I've changed my mind about havin' you for a pardner," young Kenner
went on. "You'd be a valuable man all right; but when a harp like you
gets stubborn-bitter, my hunch tells me to break away clean. You're a
mick--an' micks is all alike when they git a grudge. I can't be
bothered keepin' yuh under my eye all the time, and the way I've felt
yuh oozin' venom all this while shows me I'd have to. An' bumpin' yuh
off would be neither pleasant ner safe.

"Now, the way I've doped this out, I'm goin' to sell yuh the outfit
fer just what jack yuh got in your clothes. Fork it over, an' I'll
give yuh the layout just as she stands."

"Yuh better wait till Casey says he wants t' buy!" Swallowing
resentment all night had made his voice husky; and it was bitter indeed
to sit still