"Well, the facts you know ain't worth a damn."
"No?"
It was growing clearer and clearer to the fat man that between him and twenty-five-hundred dollars there stood only the unamiable figure of the long, lean cowpuncher. He steadied his eye till a fixed glitter came in it. He hated lean men by instinct and distrusted them.
"Sure they ain't. How you going to get around the fact that I did take
Cold Feet?"
"Well, Sandersen, you see that they's twenty-five-hundred dollars hanging on the head of this Cold Feet?"
"Certainly! And I see ten ways of spending just that amount."
"So do I," said Arizona.
"You do?"
"Partner, you've heard me talk!"
"Arizona, you're talking mighty queer. What d'ye mean?"