my lad; but Ed Doane's bettin' there's more'n a ride in it. You didn't go for no moonlight rides before that missin' friend of yourn turned up; an' then, right away, you ride up on one hoss, collect two more an' go gallivantin' off under th' moon. I'm guessin' close. Eddie Doane, I'll bet you a tenspot them three grizzlies are out for to put their ropes on them rewards. An' I hope they collect, cussed if I don't. That Scotch trail-boss is puttin' on too many airs for me—an' he's rilin' Nelson slow but shore. Go get it, Bar-20: I'm bettin' on you."
There came steps to his door. "Ar-re ye there, Ed?" called a voice.
"Shore; come in, Murphy."
The door opened and closed as the cook entered. "Have ye a pipeful? Mine's all gone."
"Help yourself," answered Doane, tossing the sack. "There it is, by yore County Cork feet."
"I have ut," grunted Murphy. "An' who was th' lad ye was talkin' to from th' windy just now?"
"Nelson. He's goin' ridin' in th' moonlight. Must aim to go far, for he's got three horses."
"Has he, now?" Murphy puffed in quiet satisfaction for a moment. "He's a good la-ad, Ed. Goin' ridin', is he? Well, ridin' is fine for them as likes it. But I'm wonderin' what he's doin' with th' kerosene I gave him?"
"Kerosene? When?"
"Whin he come in with his friend Cassidy—an' a fine bye that man is, too. Shure: a hull canteen av it. Two gallons. He says for me to kape it quiet: as if I'd be tellin'! Quayle would have me scalp if he knowed it—givin' away his ile like that. Now where ye goin' so fast?"
