But we'll win out tonight, and
they can go to ----. Say, here they come. Now for the time--an' money. Oh,
they're jist achin' to give me their wages. They won't forgit old Ned,
that's sure. Ha, ha!" and the saloon-keeper rubbed his hands with glee.
The drivers were outside the office now, and were casting furtive glances
across the way. Big Jake saw the looks and knew the longing which dwelt in
their hearts. He drew forth his pipe, stuck his little finger deliberately
into the bowl to see how much tobacco it contained.
"Boys," he began, "have yez anything on fer the night?"
"No," came the somewhat surly response, "unless we go over there."
"Don't go," said Jake. "We've spent too much there in past years. Let's
save our money fer them wot needs it at home. Let me tell ye somethin'.
Comin' down the road from the boom to-night I felt like seven devils. I
was jist longin' to git into that saloon an' have a big drink. But as luck
'ud have it I went into the post office first, an' found this here letter.
An' who is it from, d'ye think? From me own little sick lassie at home.
Look at the writin', boys.
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