“And about a million apiece, I suppose, for the claims? It doesn’t cost meanything, you know, on an option.”
“Eh, heh, heh,” laughed Charley indulgently and Heine, who had been looking from face to face, jumped up and barked with delight. “Eh, heh; yes, that’s good; but you know me, Mr. Holman–I ain’t so crazy as they think. No, I don’t talk millions with my mouth full of beans; all I want is five hundred apiece. But I got to have two hundred down.”
“Oh,” observed Wiley, “that’s two dollars for 94the marriage license and the rest for the wedding journey. Well, if it’s as serious as that─” He reached for his check-book and Charley cackled with merriment.
“Yes, yes,” he said, “then I wouldbe crazy. Do you know what the Colonel told me?
“‘Charley,’ he says, ‘whatever you do, don’t marry no talking woman. She’ll drive you crazy, the same as I am; but don’t you forget that whiskey.’”
“Oh, sure,” exclaimed Wiley, beginning to write out the option, “this money is to buy whiskey for the Colonel!”
“That’s it,” answered Charley. “He’s over across Death Valley–in the Ube-Hebes–but I can’t find my burros. They–Heine, come here, sir!” Heine came up cringing and Charley slapped him soundly. “Shut up!” he commanded and as Heine crept away Death Valley began to mutter to himself. “No, of course not; he’s dead,” he ended ineffectively, and Wiley looked up from his writing.
“Who’s dead?” he inquired, but Charley shook his head and listened through the wall.
“Look out,” he said, “I can hear her coming–jest give me that two hundred now.”
“Well, here’s twenty,” replied Wiley, passing over the money, and then there came a knock at the door.