entered.

"Hello there, young feller," Bill Conway roared at him.

"Top o' the morning to you, old dirt-digger," Farrel replied. "Please
deal me a hand of your ham and eggs, sunny side up. How be ye, Willum?"

"R'arin' to go," Conway assured him.

"All right. Pack up and go to-day. You're through on this job."

"Why?"

"I've changed my mind about fighting Parker on this dam deal--and no
profanity intended."

"But--but--"

"But me no buts, even if you are the goat. You're through. I forbid
the bans. The eggs, man! I'm famished. The midnight ride of Paul
Revere was a mere exercise gallop, because he started shortly after
supper, but the morning ride of Mike Farrel has been done on fresh air."

"You're a lunatic. If you knew what I know, Miguel--"

"Hush! I want to ascertain what you know. Bet you a dollar!" He
slammed a dollar down on the table and held his palm over it.

Bill Conway produced a dollar and likewise covered it. "Very well,
son," he replied. "I'll see your dollar. What's the nature of the