"Shake that pipe out, and try one of these instead." He laid a cigar case on the table, and though well worn it was of costly make with a good deal of silver about it, while Winston, who lighted one, knew that the cigars were good.

He had no esteem for his visitor, but men are not censorious upon the prairie, and Western hospitality is always free.
"Where have you come from, Courthorne ?" he said quietly.
The other man laughed a little.

"The long trail," he said.

"The Dakotas, Colorado, Montana.

Cleaned up one thousand dollars at Regent, and might have got more, but some folks down there seemed tired of me.
The play was quite regular, but they have apparently been getting virtuous lately." "And now ?" said Winston, with polite indifference.
Courthorne made a little gesture of deprecation.
"I'm back again with the rustlers." Winston's nod signified comprehension, for the struggle between the great range-holders across the frontier and the smaller settlers who with legal right invaded their cattle runs was just over.