"They must be paid," said Eliza. "It will give Mr. O'Neil another two weeks—a month, perhaps."
"Doc's got his back up, and he's told the cashier to make 'em wait."
Eliza hesitated, and flushed a little. "I suppose it's none of my business," she said, "but—couldn't you boys pay them out of your own salaries?"
Mr. Slater grinned—an unprecedented proceeding which lent his face an altogether strange and unnatural expression.
"Salary! We ain't had any salary," he said, cheerfully—"not for months."
"Dan has drawn his regularly."
"Oh, sure! But he ain't one of us. He's an outsider."
"I see!" Eliza's eyes were bright with a wistful admiration. "That's very nice of you men. You have a family, haven't you, Uncle Tom?"
"I have! Seven head, and they eat like a herd of stock. It looks like a lean winter for 'em if Murray don't make a sale—but he will. That isn't what I came to see you about; I've got my asking clothes on, and I want a favor."
"You shall have it, of course."