"No," Jim slowly replied, "I've often noticed that all that glitters ain't American."
"Well, you can clear out of here and notice how things look outside," retorted Parky.
Jim was slowly straightening up when the blacksmith and the teamster entered the place. They had heard the gambler's order and were thoroughly astounded. No man, howsoever poor and unprepared to pay a wretched bill, had ever been treated thus in Borealis before.
"What's the matter?" said Webber.
"Nuthin', particularly," answered Jim, in his slow, monotonous way, "only a difference of opinion. Parky thinks he's brainy, and a gentleman—that's all."
"I can see you don't git another snack of grub in here, my friend," retorted Parky, adding a number of oaths. "And for just two cents I'd break your jaw and pitch you out in the street."
"Not with your present flow of language," answered Jim.
The teamster inquired, "Why don't Jim git any more grub?"
"Because I'm running this joint and he 'ain't got the cash," said
Parky. "You got anything to say about the biz?"
"Jim's got a call on me and my cash," replied the brawny Webber. "Jim, you tell him what you need, and I'll foot the bill."