"Oh, your pardner—he pay."
"Humph! I s'pose I'll know the worst on settlin'-day."
Then, after a few moments, making a final clutch at economy before the warmth and the whisky subdued him altogether:
"Say, Nicholas, have you got—hasn't the Ol' Chief got any—less glorious breeches than those?"
"Hey?"
"Anything little cheaper?"
"Nuh," says Nicholas.
The Boy closed his eyes, relieved on the whole. Fate had a mind to see him in chaparejos. Let her look to the sequel, then!
When consciousness came back it brought the sound of Yagorsha's yarning by the fire, and the occasional laugh or grunt punctuating the eternal "Story."
The Colonel was sitting there among them, solacing himself by adding to the smoke that thickened the stifling air.