“An’ won’t ye let me have nothin’ now?”
“No, I can’t. And, Godfrey, you’d be better off if you would save your half dollars and buy yourself a pair of shoes. It will not be long, now, before the cold winter rains will set in, and there’ll be frost and snow——”
“I know,” interrupted Godfrey. “But I can kill a heap of deer atween this time and that, an’ deer meat is goin’ to be wuth something han’some this year, kase game is so skase. Come on now, Silas!”
But Silas went off to the other side of the store to attend to the wants of another customer, and Godfrey, finding that no further notice was taken of his presence, picked up his rifle, went out of the door, and turned his face up the road again in the direction from which Dan was expected to appear.
“I’ll never do no more tradin’ with Silas,” said Godfrey to himself. “I’ll send to Memphis fur my things, the way the rest of the gentlemen do; an’ I shall be as fine a gentleman as the best of ’em when I find that bar’l, won’t I? Halloa, Dannie! whar’s that dollar? I reckon ye’ve got it.”
Dan was coming along the road with his head down, and his eyes fastened on the five-dollar bill, which he still held in his hand. Had his father remained silent, he could have walked up close to him before Dan would have known that there was any one near, so fully was his attention taken up with the greenback. Surprised and startled by the abrupt address, he hastily crumpled up the money and thrust it into his pocket.
“What’s that yer shovin’ out of sight so quick thar?” demanded Godfrey.
“I haint a shovin’ nothin’ out of sight,” answered Dan. “Can’t a feller put his gold toothpick into his pocket if he wants to?”
“Whar’s the dollar?” inquired his father.
“I hain’t got to the landin’ yet, have I?” asked Dan, in reply. “I told ye that when I got to the landin’ I’d have it fur ye.”