havin' little game--good boy, Charlie."

McGrew's words seemed to break the spell. With a jump the Kid reached
him, flung him roughly from his seat, toppling him to the floor, and
stretched out his hand for the key--but he never reached it. Harvey
and Lansing, remembering the threat, and having more reason to fear the
law than on the simple count of trespassing on railroad property,
lunged for him simultaneously. Quick as a cat on his feet, the Kid
turned, and his fist shot out, driving full into Lansing's face,
sending the man staggering backward--but Harvey closed. Purling oaths,
Lansing snatched the full bottle, and, as the Kid, locked in Harvey's
arms, swung toward him, he brought the bottle down with a crash on the
back of the Kid's head--and the Kid slid limply to the floor.

White-faced, motionless, unconscious, the Kid lay there, the blood
beginning to trickle from his head, and in a little way it sobered the
two "prospectors"--but not McGrew.

"See whash done," said McGrew with a maudlin sob, picking himself up
from where the Kid had thrown him. "See whash done! Killed him--thash
whash done."

It frightened them, McGrew's words--Harvey and Lansing. They looked
again at the Kid and saw no sign of life--and then they looked at each
other. The bottle was still in Lansing's hand, and he set it back now
on the table with a little shudder.

"We'd better beat it," he croaked hoarsely. "By daylight we want to be
far away from here."

Harvey's answer was a practical one--he made for the door and
disappeared, Lansing close on his heels.

McGrew alternately cursed and pleaded with them long after they were
out of earshot; and then, moved by drunken inspiration, started to
clear up the room. He got as far as reaching for the empty bottles on
the floor, and that act seemed to father a second inspiration--there
were other bottles. He reeled to the table, picked up the one from
which they had been drinking, stared at the Kid upon the floor, brushed
the hair out of his eyes, and, throwing back his head, drank deeply.

"Jus'er steady myself--feel shaky," he mumbled.

He stared at the Kid again. The Kid was beginning to show signs of
returning consciousness. McGrew, blinking, took another drink.

"Nosh dead, after all," said McGrew thickly. "Thank God, nosh dead,
after all!"

Then drunken cunning came into his eyes. He slid the full bottle into
his pocket, and, carrying the ether in his hand, stumbled