"Oh, well," said Wyeth in an off-hand manner, "you won't quibble on a matter of twenty-five dollars additional, when you are getting a good wife. Consider that as a treasure."
"Well, I don't care. If she's willing to pay half, I'll give the sucker fifty." Wyeth bestowed a terrible look upon him, whereupon Slim withered:
"Well, she'd be getting as much as I. So what's the difference?" he tried to argue. Wyeth continued to glare at him.
"The idea!" he declared presently, with undisguised contempt. "To wish a woman to pay for your release from another! I'm too shocked to say how ashamed I am of you!"
Slim laughed sheepishly.
"Twenty-five dollars for a pair of legs like you! If I were a woman, I wouldn't give twenty-five cents for you as you sit there now," Wyeth added, with subdued mirth.
The next day, his atmosphere had changed perceptibly. He was in an ugly humor. Presently he gave words to its cause.
"That nigga woman's fooling me, and I know it."
"What's the stew today?"
"She's got another nigga a-hangin' around her. I've been suspicioning it for some time."