Lawton expressed the opinion that Chillicothe, of that State, was the
finest town on top of earth.
Bennington presumed it might be, and then opportunely bethought him of
a bottle of Canadian Club, which, among other necessary articles, he
had brought with him from New York. This he produced. The old
Missourians brightened; Davidson went into the cabin after glasses and
a corkscrew. He found the corkscrew all right, but apparently had some
difficulty in regard to the glasses. They could hear him calling
vociferously for Mrs. Arthur. Mrs. Arthur had gone to the spring for
water. In a few moments Old Mizzou appeared in the doorway exceedingly
red of face.
"Consarn them women folks!" he grumbled, depositing the tin cups on the
porch. "They locks up an' conceals things most damnable. Ain't a
tumbler in th' place."
"These yar is all right," assured Lawton consolingly, picking up one of
the cups and examining the bottom of it with great care.
"I reckon they'll hold the likker, anyhow," agreed Davidson.
They passed the bottle politely to de Laney, and the latter helped
himself. For his part, he was glad the tin cups had been necessary, for
it enabled him to conceal the smallness of his dose. Lawton filled his
own up to the brim; Davidson followed suit.
"Here's how!" observed the latter, and the two old turtlebacks drank
the raw whisky down, near a half pint of it, as though it had been so
much milk.
Bennington fairly gasped with astonishment. "Don't you ever take any
water?" he asked.
They turned slowly. Old Mizzou looked him in the eye with glimmering
reproach.
"Not, if th' whisky's good, sonny," said he impressively.
"Wall," commented Lawton, after a pause, "that is a good drink. Reckon
I must be goin'."
"Stay t' grub!" urged Old Mizzou heartily.
"Folks waitin'. Remember!"
They looked at Bennington and chuckled a little, to that young man's
discomfort.
"Lawton's a damn fine fella'," said Old Mizzou with emphasis.
Bennington thought, with a shudder, of the loose-skinned, turkey-red
neck, and was silent.
After supper Bennington and Old Mizzou played cribbage by the light of
a kerosene lamp.
"While I was hunting claims this afternoon," said the Easterner
suddenly, "I ran across a mighty pretty girl."
"Yas?" observed Old Mizzou with indifference. "What fer a gal was it?"
"She didn't look as if she belonged around here. She was a slender
girl, very pretty, with a pink dress on."