"Say, Dunning, you know ol' man Walton," he began.
"Lived round here fifteen years, never had his hair nor beard cut onct;" catalogued Dunning. "So derned stingy that he'd skin a flea to get its hide and tallow!"
"Mebbe you'll git a chanct at him today;" encouraged Holy. "He's goin' to git married!"
The others snorted in surprise, and Bronco announced contemptuously, "There ain't a bunch of calico in Arizona that would let him near enough to rope her, let alone carry his brand."
"Oh, you make me tired," Holy retorted. "Who said he was workin' any Arizona range? The girl's comin' from the East on today's train. He showed me her picture. I give him a fill about his white hair makin' him look old, and said he'd oughter get Dunning to fix him up. Say!—he swallered it like a rattlesnake swallers a gopher."
"She must be locoed," growled Bronco, suspiciously.
"I own I ain't been dazzled by the charm that draws her," acknowledged Holy, "but what interests me is that the Diamond H owes ol' Walton for a heap of things he ain't done. Say, Dunning, there's twenty-five pesoes for you, if you fix him good and proper. I got an idee—but you may have to go out of town for a few days."
"That's all right. Business ain't pressing. I figured on goin' out prospecting for a couple of weeks, anyhow. If any of the boys wants a hair-cut they can wait till I get back."
"Say Dunning, stay away three weeks," begged Bronco. "I'll make it thirty dollars if you do."
It was not solicitude for Dunning's safety that prompted this request, but Bronco, remembering that Dunning was the only barber, had a vision of the entire male population of Willcox sporting Rip Van Winklish hair, unless their flowing locks were mutilated by connubial scissors during Dunning's absence.