“Close enough so you can holler from here to their back door, my boy—if they have their say about it,” Andy assured him cheerfully. Andy felt that he could afford to be facetious now that he had Chip and Weary on his side.
“Aw, gwan! I betche there ain't a word of truth in all that scarey talk,” Happy Jack fleered heavily.
“Name your bet. I'll take it.” Andy filled his mouth with hot biscuit and stirred up the sugar in his coffee like a man who is occupied chiefly with the joys of the table.
“Aw, you ain't going to git me that way agin,” Happy Jack declared. “They's some ketch to it.”
“There sure is, Happy. The biggest ketch you ever seen in your life. It's ketch the Flying U outfit and squeeze the life out of it; that's the ketch.” Andy's tone had in it no banter, but considerable earnestness. For, though Chip would no doubt convince the boys that the danger was very real, there was a small matter of personal pride to urge Andy into trying to convince, them himself, without aid from Chip or any one else.
“Well, by golly, I'd like to see anybody try that there scheme,” blurted Slim. “That's all—I'd just like to see 'em TRY it once!”
“Oh, you'll see it, all right—and you won't have to wait long, either. Just set around on your haunches a couple of weeks or so. That's all you'll have to do, Slim; you'll see it tried, fast enough.”
Pink eyed him with a wide, purple glance. “You'd like to make us fall for that, wouldn't you?” he challenged warily.
Andy gave him a level look. “No, I wouldn't. I'd like to put one over on you smart gazabos that think you know it all; but I don't want to bad enough to see the Flying U go outa business just so I could holler didn't-I-tell-you. There's a limit to what I'll pay for a josh.”
“Well,” put in the Native Son with his easy drawl, “I'm coming to the centre with my ante, just for the sake of seeing the cards turned. Deal 'em out, amigo; state your case once more, so we can take a good, square look at these dry-farmers.”