"Hurt my feelings!" echoed Hooker scornfully. "Huh, what are we down here for, anyway—a Sunday-school picnic? My feelings are nothing, and they can wait; but we're sitting on a mine that's worth a million dollars mebbe—and it ain't ours, either—and when you throw in with old Aragon and go to making love to his daughter you know you're not doing right! That's all there is to it—you're doing me and Kruger dirt!"
"Well, Bud," said De Lancey with mock gravity, "if that's the way you feel about it I won't do it any more!"
"I wish you wouldn't," breathed Bud, raising his head from his hands; "it sure wears me out, Phil, worrying about it."
"Well, then, I won't do it," protested Phil sincerely. "So that's settled—now who's going to turn Mexican citizen?"
"Suit yourself," said Bud listlessly.
"I'll match you for it!" proposed De Lancey, diving into his pocket for money.
"Don't need to," responded Bud; "you can do what you please."
"No; I'll match you!" persisted Phil. "That was the agreement—whenever it was an even break we'd let the money talk. Here's your quarter—and if I match you I'll become the Mexican citizen. All set? Let 'er go!"
He flipped the coin into the air and caught it in his hand.
"Heads!" he called, without looking at it. "What you got?"