"That damn Doc'll wisht he hadn't never double-crossed me!" he
growled, as he swung from the saddle before the horse had come to a
stop. The office was empty and the man turned to the Headquarters
saloon. Inside were the two men he sought, and he approached them with
a snarl.
"What the hell did yeh double-cross me for?" he shouted in a fury.
The doctor pointed to Cinnabar Joe who, still dazed from the effect of
the drug, leaned upon the table. "I didn't double-cross you. The
wrong man got the dope, that's all."
Cinnabar Joe regarded Purdy dully. "He switched glasses," he muttered
thickly.
A swift look of fear flashed into Purdy's eyes. "How'n hell did he
know we fixed his licker?" he cried, for well he realized that if the
Texan had switched glasses he was cognizant of the attempt to dope him.
Moistening his lips with his tongue, the cowpuncher turned abruptly on
his heel. "Guess I'll be gittin' back where they's a lot of folks
around," he muttered as he mounted his horse. "I got to try an' figger
out if he knows it was me got Cinnabar to dope his booze. An' if he
does--" The man's face turned just a shade paler beneath the tan----
"I got to lay off this here buckin' contest. I hain't got the guts to
tackle it."
"Have you drawn your horse?" he had reached the lumber pile and the
girl was smiling down at him.
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