"'Tain't sellin' her," explained Lon. "A whollopin' good-lookin' feller wants her, and he says he'll buy yer off and give me money fer her. Will ye do it, Lem?"
"Nope, I won't! I want her myself. I been waiting long 'nough fer her."
"But wouldn't ye ruther have a pocketful of money? I would, I bet ye!"
"Lon, be ye goin' to do me dirt?" asked Lem darkly.
Lon straightened his shoulders.
"Nope, I told him ye had to be buyed off, afore I could say nothin'. But I thought ye liked money, Lem."
"So I do; but I like Flea better. I helped ye get 'em when they were babies, Lon, and ye said—"
Cronk flung out his arms.
"I said as how ye wasn't to mention aloud, even to me, that the kids wasn't mine. Ye has Flea, if ye say so, and I'll tell the lawyer—"
"Be it that good-lookin' feller what ye give the fifty dollars to what wants Flea?" Cronk nodded. "I thought ye wouldn't let me marry her," Lem cried, "and now ye be goin'—"