It was almost four o’clock when Harp began to get back to normal. Whisky had only made him feel his troubles more keenly. He left Slim arguing with the bartender and started back toward the office. He was not on exactly an even keel and his vision was slightly impaired.
As a result he almost ran into Mrs. Wesson, who was coming out of the store, carrying some groceries.
“How doo-o-o?” he said thickly.
“Hallo, Harp!” she smiled. “Did yuh see Miss Miller?”
Harp scratched his head and gawped at her.
“Shee Miss Miller? Whaffor?”
“Wasn’t you goin’ to ask her to the dance at Silverton?”
“Oh!”
Harp rubbed his long nose and reflected deeply with both eyes closed. Then:—
“But you said she was goin’ with Sam Leach.”
“I didn’t say she was goin’ with him, Harp. I said that he asked her to go
