“And what do you wish me to do, Halfaman?”
Mr. Daisy became slightly embarrassed. He looked at her gravely, then took from his overalls pocket his pencil stub, thoughtfully touched his tongue to the blunt point, and wrote on the edge of the horse trough: “The sons also of Aaron; Nadab and Abihu, Eleazar and Ithamar.”
Manzanita’s lips twitched as she read it. A week before Mr. Daisy had asked permission to use the telephone in the ranch house to relay a message for Mangan to Opaco. After he had left, Manzanita had found scribbled on the pad that lay always on the telephone table: “And the children of Amram; Aaron and Moses and Miriam. The sons also of Aaron; Nadab and——” But at this point, apparently, whoever Mr. Daisy had been calling had come to the other end of the wire.
Presently Mr. Daisy looked up briskly, as if he had gained inspiration from his chirographic concentration. “Ma’am,” he said, “I want you to slip Wing o’ the Crow an earful o’ chatter that’ll wise her up a little. Now lissen: There was a slip. But that’s all past an’ gone. Wing-o, though, she can’t ferget it—see? Now you sidle round her and kinda say: ‘Say, Wing-o, ain’t that fella Halfaman the limit?’
“‘He sure is,’ she’ll say.
“Then you’ll say: ‘What d’ye mean th’ limit?’
“And she’ll come back: ‘Ripe fer the chipmunks.’
“Then you: ‘Nothin’ stirrin’! You don’t get me, kiddo. I think he’s great!’ See—just like that. Course you’re stallin’—get the idea? You don’t have to think that yerself. Just stringin’ her along—see?
“‘What d’ye mean great?’ maybe she’ll say.
“Then you: ‘Kind an’ everything—and a perfect gentleman, even if he is a roughneck. I just think he’s there!’ See ma’am—you know how to do it.