"Oh, I'll say her!" cried Pence, and tossed off his drink of burning liquor by way of fortification.
"Ain't been settin' here by that bar'l a mite too long, have ye, Obed?—if I ain't too bold in askin'," was Selden's remark, spoken in the tone which turneth away wrath.
"No, I ain't been here too long," Pence told his captain. "And I'm glad you've come, Old Man. I want to talk to you about this fella Drew, and the way things 'a' been a-goin'."
"Shoot!" invited the old man's booming voice.
Obed came directly to the point. "Well, why ain't we runnin' Drew out?"
Old Man Selden balanced his glass on one peaked knee while he reached into a pocket of his chaparejos for a plug of tobacco. He was deliberate as he replied:
"Well, Obed, I was waitin' a spell 'count of a little matter that's on my mind just at present. I'd advise ye not to be worryin' about Drew. I'll tend to him when it's the proper time."
"Yes, you will!" sniffed Pence sarcastically. "But, allowin' that you will, I want my booze in the meantime."
"There's the bar'l," said Old Man Selden.
"That ain't gonta last forever!"