"how much?"

Crombie eyed him with shrewd amusement.

"Wal, Jim, I'll take on'y ten dollars from you, seein's your contrac's
out for buildin', an' you need ev'rything that's comin' your way."

Jim laughed. It was a boisterous laugh that had little mirth in it.

"Guess I'll treble that," he said. "I've cut the contract."

But the laugh had irritated the doctor.

"I'll take ten from you;" he said, with an incisive clipping of his
teeth. "Not a cent more, nor a cent less."

And Jim yielded to him promptly. The doctor passed on. Neither he nor
those around him had understood the bitter humor underlying Jim's
laugh. Only, perhaps, Peter Blunt, who had entered the room with Will
Henderson a moment or two before, and whose sympathetic ears had
caught the sound, could possibly have interpreted it aright.

The "whip round" was completed, and the doctor read out the total.
Five hundred and forty dollars was to be handed over to the widow, to
ease the burden Fate had inflicted upon her. And it said something for
the big hearts of this prairie folk, that, in the large majority at
least, the memory of their charity left them with the departure of the
doctor to complete his race with Nature at the far extremity of the
village.

The saloon settled down to its evening's entertainment as though
nothing unusual had happened. The majority gathered into various games
of "draw," for which the great room was half filled with small tables.
The few that resisted the seductive charms of the national card game
continued to support the bar. Of these, Smallbones only remained long
enough to air his spleen at the doctor's expense. But even he found it
incumbent upon him to modify his tone. For one thing he received an
unmerciful baiting from his companions, and besides, he knew, if he
allowed his tongue to riot too far, how easy it would be for his
denunciation to reach the strenuous doctor's ears. Gay and Wilkes
left shortly after the trust magnate, and soon Abe Horsley was forced
to seek a fresh gossip. He found one in Will Henderson, as soon as
Peter Blunt had moved away to watch the games at the tables. Will's
mood at the moment suited the lay-preacher. He wanted to drink, and
Abe was possessed of a chronic thirst.

So, with the exception of these two, Silas Rocket, ever rapacious for
custom, was left free to see that the games did not detract from the
men's drinking powers. He had an eye like a hawk for possible custom.
Wherever th