"Oh, he's on the mend, an' is makin' ready to git after you."
"He is?"
"Sure. He's had Rackshaw up to see him several times already. They're a pair, all right, an' I guess it's up to you to git busy if ye expect to come off with a whole skin."
"H'm," Abner sniffed, "I don't care a snap of me finger fer 'em."
"But ye will, let me tell ye that," and Zeb laid down the stick he was holding in his hand and looked at his neighbor. "Yell lose ye'r place if ye don't do somethin'. Ye must git a lawyer, Abner, to defend ye."
"But I can't afford one, Zeb."
"An' ye can't afford to do without one, it seems to me."
"Mebbe so." And Abner sighed. "Guess I'll have to be me own lawyer as fer as I kin see. I'm pretty glib with the tongue."
"A pretty mess you'd make of it. Why, Rackshaw would wind you up in no time. He's mighty good on a case, so I've been told. An' he's tricky, too. Will stop at nuthin' to gain his point."
Just then an auto went by, filled with men.