Ah, now come out with
you!"
Presently he backed clumsily from under the bed, dragging with him
an old coat rolled into a bundle. "I've fetched him" he muttered.
Kneeling on the floor he unrolled the coat and extracted from its
heart a large yellow-brown whisky bottle.
His first maneuver was to hold the bottle up to the light.
Reassured, apparently, that nobody had been tampering with it, he
thrust it with a generous movement toward the Swede.
The weak-kneed Swede was about to eagerly clutch this element of
strength, but he suddenly jerked his hand away and cast a look of
horror upon Scully.
"Drink," said the old man affectionately. He had arisen to his feet,
and now stood facing the Swede.
There was a silence. Then again Scully said: "Drink!"
The Swede laughed wildly. He grabbed the bottle, put it to his
mouth, and as his lips curled absurdly around the opening and his
throat worked, he kept his glance burning with hatred upon the old
man's face.
IV
After the departure of Scully the three men, with the card-board
still upon their knees, preserved for a long time an astounded
silence. Then Johnnie said: "That's the dod-dangest Swede I ever see."
"He ain't no Swede," said the cowboy scornfully.
"Well, what is he then?" cried Johnnie. "What is he then?"
"It's my opinion," replied the cowboy deliberately, "he's some
kind of a Dutchman.
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