"'What's that?' Monte asks, after listenin' mighty dignified to the spook's excuses; 'you begs my pardon? Not another word. If you-all keeps on talkin' now you'll sp'ile it. Thar's my hand,' givin' the fingers of the phantom a mighty earnest squeeze. 'I'm your friend, an' that goes.'
"Havin' established a peace, Monte insists that the Black Jack phantom b'ar him company to the O. K. Restauraw. In spite of all Missis Rucker can say or do, he plants the spook at the table, feeds it on the best that's in the kitchen, an' all as confident as if it's shorely troo. Also, he insists on payin' for two.
"When Missis Rucker tries to show him he's down wrong, he refooses to have it that way.
"'Do you-all reckon, Ma'am, that I can't trust my eyes none?' he demands. 'Which you'll tell me next that them airtights I tops of with is figments.'
"'But thar's only one of you-all,' Missis Rucker persists.
"'Ma'am,' returns Monte, his manner plumb s'picious, 'I don't jest quite sense your little game. Whatever it is, however, you-all can't play it on old Monte. You write back to my fam'ly an' the neighbors, an' the least flatterin' among 'em'll tell you that I'm as cunnin' as a squinch owl. Thar's two of us who feeds, an' for two of us I settles. Bein' a woman, you're too feeble-witted for reason, too mendacious for trooth.'
"'Don't you go callin' me no woman,' says Missis Rucker, her eyes snappin', 'onless you're ready to cash in.'
"'Women!' repeats Monte, sort o' addressin' the scenery, but still plenty cynical, 'what be they except a fleetin' show to man's deloosion given. Also, thar's nothin' to 'em. You opens their front door, an' you're in their back yard.'