A vivacious and perhaps rather "cheap" story of the north cattle country. Texas, Bat and Winthrop Adams Endicott, who live up to their names, are the heroes of the story, and with them is a romantic eastern fir who walks deliberately into longed for thrills and dangers which she finds less romantic than dreadful. The story leaves the gun-man on "the lone prairie" trying to forget the girl who has returned to her own country with the "pilgrim" who has also made good in the west Exactly twenty minutes after young Benton dismounted from his big rangy black before the door of a low adobe saloon that fronted upon one of the narrow crooked streets of old Las Vegas, he glanced into the eyes of the thin-lipped croupier and laughed. "You've got 'em. Seventy-four good old Texas dollars." He held up a coin between his thumb and forefinger. "I've got another one left, an' your boss is goin' to get that, too-but he's goin' to get it in legitimate barter an' trade." As the cowpuncher stepped to the bar that occupied one side of the room, a group of Mexicans who had lounged back at his entrance crowded once more about the wheel and began noisily to place their bets. He watched them for a moment before turning his attention to the heavy-lidded, flabby-jowled person who leaned ponderously against the sober side of the bar. "Who owns this joint?" he asked truculently, as he eyed with disfavour the filthy shirt-sleeves rolled back from thick forearms, the sagging vest, and the collarless shirt-band that buried itself in a fold of the fat neck.
Great story, but hoped he would have met up with bat. Took a long time to understand the time this was supposed to have occurred due to some of the early story.