Kreff pushed the jack of spades across the table to the other man. “You take this,” he said. “You see him oftener than I do. Don’t turn this over to him ’til you git the money, but tell him that ef he don’t get a hump on hisself we’ll drive the bunch north an’ sell ’em up there. They can’t stay around here much longer—the girl’s wise now thet somethin’s wrong. Two of the hands has told her they been missin’ stock lately.”
Cheetim sat in silence, thinking. Slowly he filled Kreff’s glass and poured another drink for himself.
“Here’s how!” he said and drank.
“How!” replied Kreff.
“I been thinkin’,” said Cheetim.
“Don’t strain yourself, ‘Dirty,’ ” Kreff admonished him.
“It’s this-a-way,” continued the other, ignoring Kreff’s pleasantry. “Ef it warnt for the girl we could clean up big on thet herd. This here Agent’ll buy anything an’ not ask no questions.”
“What do you want me to do,” inquired Kreff, “kill her?”
“I want you to help me get her. Ef I kin get her fer a few days she’ll be glad enough to marry me. Then I’ll give you half what I get out of the cattle.”
“Ride your own range, ‘Dirty,’ ” said Kreff, rising, “and keep off o’ mine.”