Minky was still laboring hard to understand.
“But all that yarn of the gold-stage?” he said sharply.
“That?” Bill at once became serious. “Wal, that’s pretty near right. You ain’t yearnin’ fer that gang to come snoopin’ around Suffering Creek. So I’m guessin’ we’ll hev to pass a gold-stage out o’ her some time.”
“You’re mad,” cried Minky in consternation.
“That’s as may be,” retorted Bill, quite unruffled. “Anyways, I guess I spent a hundred dollars in a mighty good deal this day––if it was rotten bad poker.”
And he turned away to talk to Slade of Kentucky, who entered the store at that moment with his friend O’Brien.