He sucked at his cigar, and he blew out the smoke thoughtfully, and contemplated the toe of one neat, tan shoe.

Just plain acting, it was; just a playing of his part in the little game they had started.

Better than if they had boasted of their range knowledge and their prowess in the saddle did Luck know that the dried little man had told him the truth.

He knew that at the Flying U he would find a remnant of the old order of things.

He would find some real boys, if these two were a fair sample of the bunch.