“Not over two or three weeks at the most.”
“Hum!” The real estate dealer paused and scratched his head in perplexity. “What do you say, Dan?” he questioned of Marcy.
“I reckon we had best make a bargain with ’em,” answered the bully, who thought much of good eating. “Even if they stay here they can’t do much in such a fall of snow.”
“Yes, but my pocketbook,” whispered Hiram Skeetles.
“More than likely, if it’s around, the snow has covered it completely.”
“I wouldn’t have ’em find that for a—a good deal.”
“All right, do as you please. But I want something to eat besides deer meat. You promised to take good care of me if I came on the trip with you.”
“Do you want to make terms?” shouted Joe.
“I reckon as how I might jest as well,” came slowly from Skeetles. “What will ye let me have?” he asked, cautiously.
“Whatever we can spare that you need.”