Billy smiled. “She’s a fair homestead at that,” he answered. “I think I’ll keep her.”
“What’s your game.”
“No game at all,” said Billy. “Just a notion. I want to pay taxes and be a real citizen.”
“You won’t relinquish?”
“Not to-day—nor to-morrow.”
The big man thought a bit; and frowned; then to relieve his feelings he pulled a black cigar from his pocket and lighted it. Billy kept company with a cigarette.
“Let me tell you something, my boy. I’m giving you a fair chance. There’s a thousand cold, hard dollars in this paper. If you take it and give me your word I’ll help you get your title—grubstake you—and when you are done you can sign the land over to me for another thousand.”
“Suppose I don’t take the thousand?”
“That’s your funeral, not mine. A thousand’s a nice chunk of money.”
“Sure is,” said Billy, “only——”