"You shore ought to meet Cassidy--he's a fine man," remarked Lucas with
enthusiasm. "You'll not find any better, no matter where you look. But
you ain't touched yore liquor," he finished with surprise.
"You'll have to excuse me, gentlemen," replied Mr. Elkins, smiling
deprecatingly. "When a man likes it as much as I do it ain't very easy
to foller instructions an' let it alone. Sometimes I almost break loose
an' indulge, regardless of whether it kills me or not. I reckon it'll
get me yet." He struck the bar a resounding blow with his clenched hand.
"But I ain't going to cave in till I has to!"
"That's purty tough," sympathized Wood Wright, reflectively. "I ain't
so very much taken with it, but I know I would be if I knowed I couldn't
have any."
"Yes, that's human nature, all right," laughed Lucas. "That reminds me
of a little thing that happened to me once--"
"Listen!" exclaimed Cowan, holding up his hand for silence. "I reckon
that's the Bar-20 now, or some of it--sounds like them when they're
feeling frisky. There's allus something happening when them fellers are
around."
The proprietor was right, as proved a moment later when Johnny Nelson,
continuing his argument, pushed open the door and entered the room. "I
didn't neither; an' you know it!" he flung over his shoulder.
"Then who did?" demanded Hopalong, chuckling.
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