"Well, did you land them hicks ?" It was Gray's driver speaking.

Through the gloom of early evening he was guiding his car back toward Ranger.
The road was the same they had come, but darkness had invested it with unfamiliar perils, or so it seemed, for the headlights threw every rock and ridge into bold relief and left the holes filled with mysterious shadows; the vehicle strained, its motor raced, its gears clashed noisily as it rocked along like a dory in a boisterous tide rip.

Only now and then did a few rods of smooth going permit the chauffeur to take his attention from the streak of illumination ahead long enough to light another cigarette, a swift maneuver, the dexterity of which bespoke long practice.
"Yes.

And I made a good sale," the passenger declared.

With pride he announced the size of the Briskow check.
"J'ever see a dame the size of that gal ?" A short laugh issued from the driver.