He was smoking, as usual, and wearing his hat, as he always did, indoors and out, sitting with his feet upon his desk, and a pleasant look of contemplation on his face. "Oh," says I, "then Genz hasn't been here?" "Yes," says he, "he has. I reckon you folks have 'most spoiled Genz's usefulness for me." "You're taking it mighty easy," I told him. "Yep. Isn't it all in the game?