“That’s fine,” complimented Luke Tweezy.

“An’ that ain’t all,” Racey galloped on, one toe pressing Swing’s instep.  “I’m gonna tell him, Swing.  He ain’t no friend o’ Jack Harpe’s.  If I tell you you won’t tell nobody, Lul-Luke, wuh-will yuh?”

Luke was understood to state that no clam could be tighter-mouthed.

“I knowed you wouldn’t tell, Lul-luke,” Racey declared, solemnly, reaching across the table and affectionately pawing the Tweezy sleeve.  “I mum-maybe dud-drunk, but I know a friend when I see him.  Yuh bub-bet I do.  Lul-lookit, Luke, lean over—­” Here Racey pressed heavily on Swing’s instep.  Then, when Luke leaned forward, Racey did the same and possessed himself of the money-lender’s ear by the simple method of gripping it tightly between fingers and thumb.  “Lul-luke,” resumed Racey, “Jack Harpe’s offered us a job, too, an’ we’re gonna take him up instead of the Bar S. Huh-how’s that?”

Racey released the Tweezy ear, leaned back in his chair, and breathed triumphantly through his nose.

Luke Tweezy likewise leaned back as far as his chair would permit, and fingered tenderly a tingling ear.  “Whatcha gonna take Harpe’s job for?” he asked, puzzled.  “I thought you liked the Bar S such a lot.”

“We do,” chirped Racey, laying a long finger beside his nose and pressing again the Tunstall instep.  “That’s why we’re gonna ride for Jack Harpe.”  Grinning at the mystification of Luke Tweezy, he leaned forward and whispered, “We got a idea we can help the Bar S most by bein’ where we can watch Jack—­and his outfit.”

Luke Tweezy sat up very suddenly.  Swing clapped a hand over Racey’s mouth and shoved him backward.

“Shut up!” commanded Swing.  “He dunno what he’s talkin’ about, the poor drunk.”

Thus did Swing Tunstall come up to the scratch right nobly.  Racey could have hugged him.  Instead he bit him.  This in order that Swing should pull his hand away in a natural manner.  Having achieved his purpose, Racey smiled sottishly at Luke Tweezy.

“But what’s Jack Harpe done?” Luke Tweezy inquired swiftly.

“It ain’t what he’s done,” Racey replied.  “It’s what he’s gug-gonna do.  He’s out to cuc-colddeck the Bub-bar S, an’ they nun-know it.”

Whereupon Swing began to shake him severely.  “Stop yore ravin!” he commanded, and contrived to bang Racey’s head against the wall with a bump that went a long way toward curing the pain of Racey’s bite.

Racey, with real tears in his eyes, looked up at Swing and guggled, “I’m sho shleepy!” Then he laid his head upon his arms and slept.  Luke Tweezy did not attempt to awaken him.  Swing Tunstall advised against it.  Luke Tweezy and he had a parting drink together.  Then the money-lender took what was left of the second bottle of whiskey—­the first was but a memory—­to the bar and endeavoured to chivvy a rebate out of the bartender.  But such a procedure was decidedly not the Happy Heart’s method of doing business.  Luke Tweezy, much to his disgust, for he never drank except in the way of trade, was forced to carry his bottle with him when he went.