"Fer many a mile it rode on the seat with me so I could drink 'er down if they got me cornered," he grinned.

"One good swaller is about the size of it, Mr.Nolan." Nolan grinned in sympathy and turned into the cabin, bearing the three-gallon, wicker-covered glass bottle in his arms.

Presently he returned to the doorway and stood there listening down the gulch until Casey came up, walking from the shed.
"'Tis a good thing yuh left this other car standin' here cold an' peaceful, Mr.Nolan," Casey, observed, after he also had stood for a minute listening.

"If they're follerin' they'll be here darn' soon.

If they ain't I've ditched 'em.