He couldn’t remember when he had been so tired. He pushed open the door and saw that though it was mid-morning there was a goodly crowd there already. The herds were starting to come up from Texas and there were plenty of trail-drivers there drinking. Some just starting, some trying to get rid of hangovers from the night before. Everywhere he heard the Texas drawl. He felt at home. He went up to the bar. The fat barkeep said: “What’s your pleasure, mister?” “I don’t have any this morning. Where’s Fred an’ Johnny?” “Fred’s in the office. I haven’t seen Johnny.” McAllister walked the length of the bar, went through the doorway beyond and entered the long dark passage. He walked into the office and found Fred sitting at the table drinking. He looked three-parts drunk. Fred said: “I didn’t hear you knock.” McAllister ignored him and picked up the bottle. “Got a glass?” Fred jerked his head toward the sideboard. McAllister went over and picked up a glass.
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