"Why, it's back in—" he began; but Snarley snaps in "You shut up, will ya? Even if this puncher did leave an old saddle here years ago, I bought everything on the place from Peabody, an' the storage on the rubbish would amount to more than it's worth."
"That 's kind o' new doctrine out this way," sez I; "an' I'm 'bliged to request you to produce the articles so I can claim 'em up."
"You go ahead an' make me do it," sez he, grinnin'.
"Wouldn't you sooner do it of your own free will?" sez I, like a missionary tryin' to get up enthusiasm over a donation.
"I'm good an' sick o' your fool nonsense," sez he, comin' down toward me. I was wearin' a gun on each leg, an' I pulled 'em out an' punctuated both his ears at one time; but I never stopped smilin'. He grabbed an ear in each hand an' begun to swear in a foreign langwidge, dancin' around most comical. "Won't you please get my leather for me," sez I, "or would you sooner have me guess off the center o' those two shots?"
"Yes," he roared, usin' a lot o' high-power words 'at ain't needful in repetin', "take your blame junk an' get out o' here." I nodded to the bar mop. "Shall I get 'em, Frenchy?" sez he.
"Yes, for heaven's sake, get 'em," sez the snarley one, while some o' the boys snickered, but not too noticeable.
Well, they was my saddle an' bridle all right, an' I thanked the bar mop an' flung 'em in a corner. Then I went over an' sat down by Hank Midders. "Did you get your fence-rider yet?" sez I.
"No, I ain't got him yet, but I got two days to look for him in," he sez.
Just then who should come in but the same old Diamond Dot hand who had beat me out of the pony. "Well, sign my name! If there ain't Happy Hawkins!" sez he, rushin' over an' shakin' my hand, "Still in business, Happy?" sez he.