Stayin' till after the fireworks. Are you goin' back to Preston?" "Why, certainly! Like my new job fine," responded Rock. "I'm sort of a foreman over the younger Prestons." "Rock, it was a hell of a good bet that Gage Preston would never put you to butcherin'. Want a drink with me?" "No, thanks. I've sworn off," replied Rock shortly, and he went out to walk in the darkness. Slagle's remarks were trenchant with meaning. Slagle, of course, hated Preston, and naturally would be prone to cast slurs. But would he make two-sided remarks like that, just out of rancour? It would go severely with him if one of them ever came to Preston's ears. And rattlesnake Ash Preston would strike at less than that. Rock strolled to and fro between the hotel lights and those on the corner. As he came into the yellow flare of light, a hand, small, eager and strong, seized his arm, and a feminine voice he knew rang under his ear. "True Rock, I've been on your trail all afternoon." Rock stared down into the piquant flushed face of his old sweetheart, Amy Wund.
