Royal's jaw dropped. "The devil you say!" he exclaimed.
"I don't want de job—your scow's no good—but I toss a coin wit' you.
One t'ousan' dollar or—free trip."
"Nothing doing," snapped the ex-horseman.
"Bien! Now I give you li'l AD-vice. Hol' hard to de right in lower end dis canon. Dere's beeg rock dere. Don't touch 'im or you goin' spin lak' top an' mebbe you go over W'ite 'Orse sideways. Dat's goin' smash you, sure."
Royal broke out, peevishly: "Another hot tip, eh? Everybody's got some feed-box information—especially the ones you don't hire. Well, I ain't scared—"
"Oh yes, you are!" said the other man. "Everybody is scare' of dis place."
"Anyhow, I ain't scared a thousand dollars' worth. Takes a lot to scare me that much. I bet this place is as safe as a chapel and I bet our scow goes through with her tail up. Let her bump; she'll finish with me on her back and all her weights. I built her and I named her."
Danny watched the pilot as he swung down to the stony shore and rejoined Pierce Phillips; then he looked on in fascination while they removed their outer garments, stepped into a boat with Kid Bridges, and rowed away into the gorge.
"It's—got my goat!" muttered the little jockey.