game, an' when the committee 'peared next mornin', he says, 'Cert'n'y, gentlemen,' an' handed 'em out about ten thousan' in them old green dollar bills, an' says: 'When yo're done countin' o' them 'ere, I'll give you all some more.' An' in 'bout an hour they reckoned they'd take his figur's—they'd have to do."
Grigsby's heart lightened, and he became almost gay, ordering much drink. And for an hour the two men sat there, waiting and smoking, and drinking whisky—Jennings bourbon and Grigsby rye—and were content. Though every time the yowl of a locomotive was borne to him on the cold, wet night, Grigsby jerked out his watch. And once he started at a short knock on the door, but it was only Mendenhall.
After midnight Grigsby's anxiety deepened, and he ceased to pay attention to Jennings' stories of politics down in "southern Eellinoy," stories about Don Morrison and John A. Logan. At twelve-forty he rose and trod the floor, but Jennings' long form was stretched out before the fire, his whisky glass was at his elbow, and he said from time to time:
"Oh, fer God's sake, Bill, set down—they'll be 'long all right."
