"Yes?" queried Murphy, the inflection of the monosyllable leaving nothing to be learned but the harrowing details.
"Coax her to go to Willow," persisted Tex.
"She don't like th' town."
"Yore inference is shore misleadin'," commented Tex. "I'd take it from that that she does like Windsor."
"Divvil a bit; but she stays where Mike is."
"Then you've got to shift Mike. There's not enough work here for a good man like Costigan," suggested Tex.
"Yer like a dog chasin' his tail. Costigan stays where th' lass an' her brother are."
"Huh! Damon an' Pythias was only a dual combination," muttered the puncher. "Cussed if there ain't somethin' in th' world, after all, that justifies Nature's labors."
"An'," went on Murphy as though he had not been interrupted, "th' lass sticks to her brother, an' he stays where he's put. He's not strong an' he has a livin' to make for two. Ye can take yer change out av that, Mr. Tex Jones."
Tex grunted pessimistically. "Well, anyhow," he said, brightening a little, "mebby Miss Saunders won't be pestered for a little while by Hennery--an' then we'll see what we see. I'm unlucky these days: I'm allus with th' under dog," and he went on to tell his companion of his suggestions to the nephew.