"Him? Only way hell ever make money is to ketch a solid-gold trout."
"Maybe I'm the solid-gold trout you're speakin' about," said Scattergood.
She regarded him sharply a moment. "Set," she said. "Looks like you got somethin' on your mind."
There were times when Scattergood could be direct and succinct. He perceived it was best to be so with this woman.
"I might want to buy this here store—under certain conditions."
"How much?"
"Inventory, and a share in the profits of a deal I got in mind."
"What's them conditions you mentioned?"
"That you and Jim don't mention the sale to anybody, and keep on runnin' the place—for wages—until I'm ready for you to quit."
"What's the deal them profits is comin' from, and how much you figger they'll be?"