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"Shay, Rayder, you come and go home with me and hang around a day or two until you buy the mine and play sweet with Annie, an' the night of the weddin' we'll hev a dance and send you away on your bridal tour in a blaze of glory." "I'll do it, I'll do it, Amos, an' then we'll be almost brothers 'cordin' ter law, anyway."
"Here, too, Rayder, you know the first time we saw each other, I sez to myself I sez there is a man that would stick to a friend through thick and thin." "You are that kind of a man yourself, Amos, is the reason you have a good opinion of me. I never had a friend in distress yet that I didn't help him out." "That's right, Rayder, that's right.
Half an hour later Rayder was stretched upon the lounge in the little back office, dead to the world. Amos sat by the window sobering up until the grey of the morning. The sleeping man roused, and Amos gave him another half goblet of whisky followed by a sip of water.
He took the money to the Wells Fargo Express company's office and expressed it to his wife in Saguache. Rayder was sleeping when he returned. He placed the check book in its accustomed place in the desk, destroyed all evidence of the night's debauch and left a note on the desk saying: "My dear Rayder, I have been suddenly called home by the illness of my wife.
Just then, some one came in and announced that the two men had been rescued from under the snow-slide. The games stopped and the men at the tables ordered their drinks from the waiters. The dance in the adjoining room stopped in the middle of a set, while men and women crowded about the bar. Only three in that room did not rejoice at the news Mary Greenwater, Coyote Jim and Rayder.
The Bucket of Blood had maintained its reputation. The excitement of the affair spread over the town, and among the spectators who crowded in was a haggard man. His eyes were hollow and deep-set, showing that he had undergone a severe mental strain for weeks. He saw them lift the affrighted Rayder from his place of safety at the baseboard, then his eyes rested on the dead woman at the faro table.
His life had been that of the iconoclast who creates nothing to adorn the world's great gallery of gods. But he was not philosophical enough to evolve an idea that would disrupt existing beliefs. It was some weeks after his arrival home, when he espied Rayder one morning coming down the street towards his office.
Rayder learned that this was the mine he had come to purchase through the connivance of Amos and concluded to wait and see what time would develop. Day after day he sought Amos, but the latter was too drunk to talk with any sense. He then sought Carson and offered financial assistance in the rescue work, but the men spurned the offer.
The man was trembly and his lips quivered as he spoke. Remembering his own recent condition Rayder handed the fellow a dollar and motioning to the others, said: "Divide up." The men jumped to their feet with alacrity and followed the first man to the bar. Rayder walked to the faro table where Amos sat with his back to him putting down twenty dollar gold pieces on the money.
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