“No.  I said wash up!  Get busy now!”

The younger man demurred, but finally did as he was told.  They went downstairs and out to the street.  In an hour they returned, Will Corliss looking somewhat like his former self in respectable raiment.  “John,” he said as they entered the room again, “you’ve always been a good old stand-by, ever since we were kids.  I guess I got in bad this time, but I’m going to quit.  I don’t want to go back to the Concho—­you know why.  If you’ll give me some dough I’ll take care of myself.  Just forget what I said about my share of the money.”

“Wait till morning,” said Corliss.  “I’ll take the room next, here, and if you get to feeling bad, call me.”

“All right, Jack.  I’ll cut it out.  Maybe I will go back to the Concho; I don’t know.”

“Wish you would, Will.  You’ll get on your feet.  There’s plenty to do and we’re short-handed.  Think it over.”

“Does—­Nell—­ever say anything?” queried the brother.

“She talks about you often.  Yesterday we were talking about you.  I told her what Sundown said about—­”

“Sundown?”

“Forgot about him.  He drifted in a few months ago.  I met up with him at the water-hole ranch.  He was broke and looking for work.  Gave him a job cooking, and he made good.  He told me that he used to have a pal named Will Corliss—­”

“And Sundown’s at the Concho!  I never told him where I lived.”

“He came into Antelope on a freight.  Got side-tracked and had to stay.  He didn’t know this used to be your country till I told him.”

“Well, that beats me, Jack!  Say, Sun was just an uncle to me when we were on the road.  We made it clear around, freights, cattle-boats, and afoot.  I didn’t hit the booze then.  Funny thing:  he used to hit it, and I kind of weaned him.  Now it’s me. . .”

“He’s straight, all right,” said Corliss.  “He ’tends right to business.  The boys like him.”

“Everybody liked him,” asserted Will Corliss.  “But he is the queerest Hobo that ever hit the grit.”

“Some queer, at that.  It’s after nine now, Will.  You get to bed.  I want to see Banks a minute.  I’ll be back soon.”

When John Corliss had left the room, something intangible went with him.  Will felt his moral stamina crumbling.  He waited until he heard his brother leave the hotel.  Then he went downstairs and returned with a bottle of whiskey.  He drank, hid the bottle, and went to bed.  He knew that without the whiskey he would have been unable to sleep.

The brothers had breakfast together next morning.  After breakfast Corliss went for the team and returned to the hotel, hoping to induce his brother to come home with him.  Will Corliss, however, pleaded weariness, and said that he would stay at the Palace until he felt better.

“All right, Will.  I’ll leave some cash with Banks.  He’ll give you what you need as you want it.”