“So you can’t do it, hey?” the old rancher demanded.
“Nope! No can do. Here, take these for a souvenir, Pop. You deserve ’em.” And Nick laughed bitterly as he dropped the pieces of the bill into Pop’s hand.
For a moment the puncher stared at them.
“You was goin’ to roll ’em in this handkerchief an’ then they’d be O.K., wasn’t you?” he asked.
“Yea, I was,” Nick replied sardonically. “But the show’s closed.”
“That’s all you had to do—just roll ’em up?”
“That’s all,” and Nick laughed again, harshly.
“Well, that seems easy. If you could do it, don’t see why I can’t. Now let’s see. I put ’em in this way, an’ fold the cloth. Then what?”
Nick did not answer. He strolled toward the door.
“Hey, Nick! what do I do now?”