"He's turned in," suggested Andy.

"That's all right. I got to see him."

"I'm on! You're goin' to pay somethin' down on a rig, and git him to
let you take it on time. Great idee! Go to it!"

"You got me wrong," said Pete.

Roth had gone to bed, but he rose and answered the door when he heard
Pete's voice. "Kin I see you alone?" queried Pete.

"I reckon so. Come right in."

Pete blinked in the glare of the lamp, shuffled his feet as he slowly
counted out eighteen dollars and a half. "It's for the gun I took," he
explained.

Roth hesitated, then took the money.

"All right, Pete. I'll give you a receipt. Just wait a minute."

Pete gazed curiously at the crumpled bit of paper that Roth fetched
from the bedroom. "I took a gun an' cartriges for Wagges. You never
giv me Wages."

Pete heaved a sigh. "I reckon we're square."

Roth grinned. "Knowed you'd come back some day. Reckon you didn't