He opened the door of the little cupboard above his desk and took from it a decanter of moonshine whiskey Dan Wiley, one of his mountain men, had always kept filled for him. From the drawer he took two packs of cards and a case of poker chips. The cards and chips he rolled in a newspaper, placed in his stove and set them on fire. He smiled as he stood and listened to the roar of the sudden blaze. He raised his window and hurled the red-eyed decanter across the vacant lot in the rear of his office and saw it break into a hundred fragments on a pile of stones.
"Wonder what Dan will say to that when he comes this morning?" he exclaimed, looking at his watch and resuming his seat.
He heard a stealthy footfall at the door, turned and saw the tall lanky form of the mountaineer smiling at him.
"Well, Chief, you sent for me?"
"Yes, come in Dan!"
Dan Wiley tipped in and stood pulling his long moustache thoughtfully, before taking a chair.
"What's on your mind?" asked John.
"I heered somethin'."
"About me?"
"Yes, and it pestered me."
"Well?"
"They say you got drunk night 'fore last."
