Homer crimsoned. His hat fell to his knee. “Mrs. Luce is crazy!” he burst forth.
“She’s been tellin’ me how you hung on to her nuggets. Give ’em back to her, boy. She’s got a bad tongue.”
“Her nuggets! What does she mean? She needs her brain examined.”
“You ain’t got ’em, Homer?”
“Of course I haven’t got ’em. I don’t believe she ever had any. Did you ever see ’em?”
“No.”
“What on earth could I do with a string of nuggets?” His chest heaved angrily.
“Good collateral,” said the Judge, “case a man needed money.”
“I don’t need money.” He said it sullenly, and shifted in his chair.
“Come to me when you do, boy.”