“But the little stake he inherited was gambled away by his stinking old aunt.”
“Well!” I cried.
“So we're seeing him through.”
“You bet,” said a citizen in boots and pistol, who was playing billiards.
“This town is not going to permit any man to fool with Josey,” stated his opponent in the game.
“Or women either,” added a lounger by the bar, shaggy-bearded and also with a pistol.
“Mr. Abe Hanson,” said the barkeeper, presenting me to him. “Josey's father's partner. He's took the boy from the aunt and is going to see him through.”
“How 'r' ye?” said Mr. Hanson, hoarsely, and without enthusiasm.
“A member of the prize-awarding committee,” explained Stuart, and waved a hand at me.
They all brightened up and came round me.