"I should say so," slipped out almost unconsciously from the lips of the habitual echo.
"'Tis well," said Mosely, waving his hand. "You know it and you believe it. I'm a bad man to insult, I am. I generally chaw up them that stand in my way."
Tom Hadley was really a braver man than Mosely, and he answered obstinately, "Give me half that gold-dust, or I'll take it."
Bill Mosely saw his determined face and felt that it was necessary to back down. "I don't know why I don't shoot you," he said, trying to keep up his air of domination.
"Because two can play at that game," said Hadley, doggedly.
He produced a pouch, and Bill Mosely, much against his will, was compelled to divide the contents of the stolen bag, managing, however, to retain the larger share himself.
"I don't want to quarrel with a friend," said Bill, more mildly, "but you don't act friendly to-day."
"It's all right now," said Hadley, satisfied.
"Maybe you think I don't want to act fair," continued Mosely in an injured tone. "Why, the very horse you are riding is a proof to the contrary. I didn't ask for both horses, did I?"
"You couldn't ride both," answered Tom Hadley, with practical good sense.