“How that?”
“How? What humbuggin’ stuff askin’ such a questyin! Han’t we all equil shares in ’em? Coorse we hev. Tharfore, them as wants ’em, must pay for ’em. An’ they as wants ’em so bad as to do shootin’ for ’em, surely won’t objek to that. Theer appear to be four candydates in the field, an’, kewrous enuf, they’re set in pairs, two for each one o’ the gals. Now, ’ithout refarin’ to any fightin’ that’s to be done—an’, if they’re fools enuf to fight, let ’em—I say that eyther who eventyally gets a gal, shed pay a considerashin o’ gold-dust all roun’ to the rest o’ us—at least a pannikin apiece. That’s what Jack Striker proposes first.”
“It’s fair,” says Slush.
“Nothing more than our rights,” observes Tarry; the Dane and the Dutchman also endorsing the proposal.
“I agree to it,” says Harry Blew.
“I also,” adds Davis.
De Lara—late Gomez—signifies his assent by a disdainful nod, but without saying a word; Hernandez imitating the action. In fear of losing adherents, neither dares disapprove of it.
“What more have you to say, Jack?” asks Slush, recalling Striker’s last words, which seemed to promise something else.
“Not much. Only thet I think it a pity, after our livin’ so long in harmony thegither, we can’t part same way. Weemen’s allers been a bother ever since I’ve know’d ’em. An’, I ’spose, it’ll continue so to the eend o’ the chapter, an’ the eend o’ some lives heer. I repeet, thet it be a pity we shed hev to wind up wi’ a quarrel wheer blood’s bound to be spilt. Now, why, can’t it be settled ’ithout thet? I think I know o’ a way.”
“What way?”