"You come to Coldriver on business, didn't you? Money business?"
"Why I came is my own affair."
"Certain.... Certain.... But things gets noised about. Things has got noised about concernin' a paper that stands betwixt you and half of the Beatty estate. Heard 'em myself." Scattergood waggled the envelope. "I hain't exactly objectin' to makin' a leetle quick money myself—supposin' it kin be done safe, and the blame, if they is any, throwed somewheres else.... Now, Mr. Curtis, what kind of a course would you foller if that paper we been talkin' about was to fall into the hands of a feller that felt like I do about makin' money?"
"What do you mean?" Farley demanded, moving forward eagerly in his chair.
"Hain't good at guessin', be you?"
"That paper doesn't worry me," said Farley. "Calc'lated on havin' it before you took the train to-night, eh?"
Farley scowled.
"Uh-huh!... Wa-al, I wasn't seein' sich a chance to make a dollar slip by. The way you was figgerin' on gittin' that paper, Mr. Curtis, won't work. I know. Uh-huh! I know, because I got ahead of you. I got that paper myself.... And we kin deal if I kin be made to feel safe.... Most things leaks out through wimmin.... Hain't mixin' any wimmin into this, be you?"
"No."
"Um!... How about Sairy Pound?"