"How old is this boy?" asked the canny horseman.
"How ole? Why, kunnel, I reckon he's risin' fifteen, mebbe."
"Smart boy?"
Shanghai cackled derisively.
"I loaned him a two-bit piece, kunnel, an' he tol' me all he knowed!"
Old Man Curry fell to combing his beard, and Shanghai retreated to the tackle-room where he found Little Mose.
"The boss, he pullin' his whiskehs an' cookin' up a job on somebody," remarked the hostler.
"Huh!" grunted Mose. "It's time he 'uz doin' somethin'! Betteh not leave it all to Sol'mun!"
The cooking process lasted until evening, by which time Old Man Curry had ceased to comb his beard and was rolling a straw reflectively from one corner of his mouth to the other.