“Well, you ain't goin' to let one of your cerridges go, let alone hirin', unless he pays ahead.”
“Lord! Dilly, how'm I goin' to ask him?” protested Rawdy.
“How? Why, the way anybody would ask him. 'Ain't you got a tongue in your head?” demanded she.
“You dunno what a man he is. I asked him the other night when I drove him up, and it wa'n't a job I liked, I can tell you.”
“Did he pay you?”
“Paid me some of it.”
“He's owin' you now, ain't he?”
“Well, he ain't owin' much, only the few times their cerridge 'ain't been down. It ain't much, Dilly.”
“But it's something.”
“Yes; everythin' that ain't nothin' is somethin', I s'pose.”