“Get it? Get what? Oh, you mean Lizzie!” and he picked up a big horned toad. “Yes, she’s quite a pet of mine. A friend sent her to me from Arizona, and in warm weather she goes everywhere with me in my pocket. Guess she crawled out now to see what all the rumpus was about. You like horned toads?” he asked.
“I like anything in this line,” said the eager scientist as he picked up the unpleasant, but harmless creature and stroked its back. “So you call her Lizzie?”
“It’s a bit easier than Iguanidae Phrynosoma,” said Gimp.
“Oh, you know the Latin name?” beamed the professor, probably unaware of the queer figure he presented.
“That’s all the Latin I do know, so don’t tackle me on any more,” laughed the cowboy. “I wouldn’t have known that only it was writ on the box Lizzie come in, an’ I set up three nights learnin’ to say it without gettin’ a cramp in my tongue. Then I called her Lizzie for short.”
“She is a beautiful specimen,” murmured the scientist. “I see you have a love for nature.”
“Well, you might call it that,” assented Gimp. “I beg your pardon for gettin’ the drop on you just then.”
“You didn’t get anything on me,” the little bald-headed man said.
“He means covered you with his gun,” translated the Parson. “He had it aimed at you. He sure thought you was coming at him I reckon.”
“That’s what,” said Gimp. “’Tain’t healthy, out here, to jump at a man lessen he knows you some. But it’s all right.”