George looked out to see who was washing. "This ain't no time to come in for dinner," he growled.
"There's never no time like th' present. Can't help it," retorted Johnny. "While I'm washin' you rustle th' chuck."
"Wolf was here askin' about you," said George.
"That so? Well, that ain't no crime."
"Can he shoot better'n you?" queried the cook. "He says he'll shoot against anybody in this country with six-guns, any fashion, for a dollar a shot. Does it sound like money?"
"If I could shoot that good I'd be too rich to be restin' up between cow-punchin' jobs," gurgled Johnny through a double handful of water. "Reckon he knows what he's talkin' about, or he wouldn't risk bein' took up."
"Well," said the cook, "I've heard somethin' from them that seen it. If you aim to go ag'in' him, let me know ahead of time, will you?"
"I ain't aimin' to," replied Johnny.
"Hey! Wait!" exclaimed the cook, disappearing. He returned with a clean towel. "Use this. That ain't fit for a dog no more."
Johnny looked at the old one and smiled. It was quite some distance from the condition which called for a change of towels at the Delmonico. "Thanks. Th' dirt won't come off this one. What about dinner?"