Well! Here's hoping your toothache will be
better in the morning, Court."
"I don't think I ought to rob you like this, Charlie,--"
"Lord, man, you're not robbing me. If you're robbing anybody, it's
Doc Simpson,--and he's been absolutely free from toothache ever
since I told him this room was dry. Excuse me a second, Court. I
always propose a toast before I take a drink up here. Here's to Miss
Alix Crown, the finest girl in the U. S. A., and the best boss a
man ever had. Course I've never said that in a saloon, but up here
it's different,--and kind of sacred."
"I usually make a wry face when I drink it neat like this," said
Courtney.
"You'll like her just as well as I do when you get to know her, boy.
I've known her since she was a little kid,--long before she was
sent abroad,--and she's the salt of the earth. That's one thing on
which Doc and Hatch and me always agree. We differ on most everything
else, but--well, as I was saying, you wait till you get to know
her."
He tossed off the whiskey in one prodigious gulp, smacked his lips,
and then stood watching his guest drink his.
Tears came into Courtney's eyes as he drained the last drop of the
fiery liquid. A shudder distorted his face.
"Pretty hot stuff, eh?" observed Charlie sympathetically.
Courtney's reply was a nod of the head, speech being denied him.
"Don't try to talk yet," said Charlie, as if admonishing a child
who has choked on a swallow of water.
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