get tangled with Donnegan don't last long. You ought to know that."
At this the grief, hate, and rage in Lefty Joe were blended and caused an explosion.
"Confound Donnegan. Who's Donnegan? I ask you, who's Donnegan?"
"A guy that makes trouble," replied the brakie, evidently hard put to it to find a
definition.
"Oh, don't he make it, though? Confound him!"
"You ought to of stayed shut of him, Lefty."
"Did I hunt him up, I ask you? Am I a nut? No, I ain't. Do I go along stepping on the tail
of a rattlesnake? No more do I look up Donnegan."
He groaned as he remembered.
"I was going fine. Nothing could of been better. I had the boys together. We was doing so
well that I was riding the cushions and I went around planning the jobs. Nice, clean work.
No cans tied to it. But one day I had to meet Suds down in the Meriton Jungle. You
know?"
"I've heard--plenty," said the brakie.
"Oh, it ain't so bad--the Meriton. I've seen a lot worse. Found Suds there, and Suds was
playing Black Jack with an ol gink. He was trimmin' him close. Get Suds going good and
he could read 'em three down and bury 'em as fast as they came under the bottom card.
Takes a hand to do that sort of work. And that's the sort of work Suds was doing for the
old man. Pretty soon the game was over and the old man was busted. He took up his pack
and beat it, saying nothing and looking sick. I started talking to Suds.
"And while he was talking, along comes a bo and gives us a once-over. He knew me. 'Is
this here a friend of yours, Lefty? he says.
"'Sure,' says I.
"'Then, he's in Dutch. He trimmed that old dad, and the dad is one of Donnegan's pals.
Wait till Donnegan hears how your friend made the cards talk while he was skinning the
old boy!
"He passes me the wink and goes on. Made me sick. I turned to Suds, and the fool hadn't
batted an eye. Never even heard of Donnegan. You know how it is? Half the road never
heard of it; part of the roads don't know nothin' else. He's like a jumpin tornado; hits
every ten miles and don't bend a blade of grass in between.
"Took me about five minutes to tell Suds about Donnegan. Then Suds let out a grunt and
started down the trail for the old dad. Missed him. Dad had got out of the Jungle and
copped a rattler. Suds come back half green and half yeller.
"'I've done it; I've spilled the beans,' he says.
"'That ain't half sayin' it,' says I.
"Well, we lit out after that and beat it down the line as fast as we could. We got the rest of
the boys together; I had a swell job planned up. Everything staked. Then, the first news
come that Donnegan was after Suds.
"News just dropped on us out of the sky. Suds, you know how he is. Strong bluff. Didn't
bat an eye. Laughed at this Donnegan. Got a hold of an old pal of his, named Levine, and
he is a mighty hot scrapper. From a knife to a toenail, they was nothing that Levine
couldn't use in a fight. Suds sent him out to cross Donnegan's trail.
"He crossed it, well enough. Suds got a telegram a couple days later saying that Levine
had run into a wild cat and was considerable chawed and would Suds send him a stake to
pay the doctor?
"Well, after that Suds got sort of nervous. Didn't take no interest in his work no more.
Kept a weather eye out watching for the coming of Donnegan. And pretty soon he up and
cleaned out of camp.
"Next day, sure enough, along comes Donnegan and asks for Suds. We kept still--all but
Kennebec Lou. Kennebec is some fighter himself. Two hundred pounds of mule muscle
with the brain of a devil to tell what to do--yes, you can lay it ten to one that Kennebec is
some fighter. That day he had a good edge from a bottle of rye he was trying for a friend.
"He didn't need to go far to find trouble in Donnegan. A wink and a grin was all they
needed for a password, and then they went at each other's throats. Kennebec made the
first pass and hit thin air; and before he got back on his heels, Donnegan had hit him four
times. Then Kennebec jumped back and took a fresh start with a knife."
Here Lefty Joe paused and sighed.
He continued, after a long interval: "Five minutes later we
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