"The Captain loves the service," said Steele. "He alone knows the worth
of the Rangers. And the work he's given his life to--the _good_ that
_service_ really does--all depends on you and me, Russ!"
I assented, gloomily enough. Then I waited while he pondered.
The moon soared clear; there was a cool wind rustling the greasewood; a
dog bayed a barking coyote; lights twinkled down in the town.
I looked back up at the dark hill and thought of Sally Langdon. Getting
here to Linrock, meeting Steele had not changed my feelings toward her,
only somehow they had removed me far off in thought, out of possible
touch, it seemed.
"Well, son, listen," began Steele. His calling me that was a joke, yet I
did not feel it. "You've made a better start than I could have figured.
Neal said you were lucky. Perhaps. But you've got brains.
"Now, here's your cue for the present. Work for Miss Sampson. Do your
best for her as long as you last. I don't suppose you'll last long. You
have got to get in with this gang in town. Be a flash cowboy. You don't
need to get drunk, but you're to pretend it.
"Gamble. Be a good fellow. Hang round the barrooms. I don't care how you
play the part, so long as you make friends, learn the ropes.
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