"I'll let some of the wind out of him if he monkeys with me!"
"Looks to me like I know another feller that an operation wouldn't hurt," the Duke remarked, turning a sly eye on his friend.
The landlord appeared with a lamp to light them to their beds, putting an end to these exchanges of threat and banter. As he was leaving them to their double-barreled apartment, Lambert remarked:
"That man Jedlick's an interesting-lookin' feller."
"Ben Jedlick? Yes, Ben's a case; he's quite a case."
"What business does he foller?"
"Ben? Ben's cook on Pat Sullivan's ranch up the river; one of the best camp cooks in the Bad Lands, and I guess the best known, without any doubt."
Taterleg sat down on the side of his bed as if he had been punctured, indeed, lopping forward in mock attitude of utter collapse as the landlord closed the door.
"Cook! That settles it for me; I've turned the last flapjack I'll ever turn for any man but myself."
"How will you manage the oyster parlor?"