TILTON—swept over the falls: Why, no'm; I don't guess there's any other
I could spare, account of—
MRS. L. J. P.—almost sweetly: All right, then. To-morrow; seven sharp.
TILTON—from the whirlpool, helplessly: Yes'm! Yes'm!
MRS. L. J. P.: Morning!
* * * * *
We ride on. Tilton fades back toward the corral; he has forgotten to replace his hat.
I now decided to make a little conversation rather than have the stupid and ruinous game of coyote for a pastime.
"I thought you hadn't seen Snell yet."
"I haven't; not since he promised his half of the job two weeks ago."
"But you just told Tilton—"