“You heathen!” snorted Blake in mock horror. “This is Sunday! If you want to dance wait till you get back to the ranch–suppose one of the women was here and heard you say that!”
“Gee, I forgot all about it being Sunday,” replied Jim, quickly looking to see if any of the women were in the room. “We’re regular barbarians, ain’t we!” he exclaimed in self-condemnation and relief when he saw that no women were present. “We’re regular land pirates, ain’t we?”
“You’ll be asking to play poker yet, or have a race,” jabbed Humble with malice. “You ain’t got no sense and never did have any.”
“Huh!” retorted Jim belligerently, “I won’t try to learn a Chinee cook how to play poker and get skinned out of my pay, anyhow! Got enough?” he asked, “or shall I tell of the time you drifted into Sagetown and asked––”
“Shut up, you fool!” whispered Humble ferociously. “Yu’ll get skun if you say too much!”
“’Skun’ is real good,” retorted Jim. “Got any more of them new words to spring on us?”
Helen had been passing to and fro past the window and Docile Thomas here put his marveling into words, for he had been casting covert glances at her, but now his restraint broke.
“Gee whiz!” he exclaimed in a whisper to Jack Lawson. “Ain’t she a regular hummer, now! Lines like a thoroughbred, face like a dream and a smile what shore is a winner! See her hair–fine and dandy, eh? She’s in the two-forty class, all right!” he enthused. “Why, when this country wakes up to what’s in it the sheriff will have to put up a stockade around this house and mount guard. Everybody from Bill up will be stampeding this way to talk business with the sheriff. No wonder The Orphan has got a bee in his bonnet–lucky dog!”
“She can take care of my pay every month just as soon as she says the word,” Jack replied. “But suppose you look away once in a while? Suppose you shift your sights! You, too, Humble,” he said, suddenly turning on the latter.
“Me what?” asked Humble, without interest and without shifting his gaze. “What are you talking about?”