“Nope: no holding back this time,” said Laramie. “How much’ll it be, Tex? You can figger, can’t you? I aint kept track.”
“What do you want to know for?” Tex demanded. “Can’t you wait? There’s no way to spend it here. You’ll spend it fast enough when you do get it. Why don’t you let it grow?”
“Well,” said Laramie, “I’m curious. It’s mine, aint it? Then I get it, don’t I? How much?”
“But what’ll you do with it? Throw it away?” Tex reproved. “Five dollars will give you a good time in that shipping burg; the rest wont harm you if I keep it for you.”
“I don’t stop in that burg,” announced Laramie. “I told you I’m quittin’. I’ll need all my money.”
Tex deplored:
“Oh, pshaw, Laramie! I was hoping you’d got that out of your system. The old man’s gone. ’Twasn’t only a flash in the pan. I mean for you to stay on. Blamed if I’ll let you leave the Seventy-seven.”
“Can’t help yoreself, Tex,” said Laramie. “I been thinkin’ of quittin’, two-three weeks now, and I do quit, soon as we reach the pens. You’ll have men enough there.”
“Going to join another outfit?”
“Nope. When I quit, I quit ridin’, and I pull out.”