"Never mind what I said. I ast you what you were goin' to do."
The badgered one began to bristle a little. "What's that to you?" he asked, scowling.
"A whole lot!" cried Mahooley. "You fellows have no consideration. You're always comin' up here and starvin' on us. Do you think that's nice for me? Why, the last fellow left a little pile of white bones beside the trail on the way to my girl's house, after the coyotes picked him clean. Every time I go up there I got to turn my head the other way."
Sam smiled stiffly at Mahooley's humour.
"Can you cook?" the trader asked.
Sam's heart sank. "So-so," he said.
"Well, I suppose I've got to let you cook for us and for the gang that's comin'. You'll find everything in the kitchen across the road. Go and get acquainted with it. By Gad! you can be thankful you run up against a soft-hearted man like me."
Sam murmured an inquiry concerning wages.
"Wages!" roared Mahooley with an outraged air. "Stiffy, would you look at what's askin' for wages! Go on, man! You're damned lucky if you get a skinful of grub every day. Grub comes high up here!"
Sam reflected that it would be well to submit until he learned the real situation in the settlement. "All right," he said, and turned to go.