Wayne plumped his valise down in the dust, mopped his brow, folded his arms, and regarded Briggs between the eyes.
“You have the infernal cheek, after getting
me up here, to intimate that you have taken the pick?”
“I do,” replied Briggs firmly. The two young fellows faced each other.
“By the way,” observed Briggs casually, “the stock they come from is as good if not better than ours. This is a straight game.”
“Do you mean to say that you—you are—seriously——”
“Something like it. There! Now you know.”
“For Heaven’s sake, Stuyve——”
“Yes, for Heaven’s sake and in Heaven’s name don’t get any wrong ideas into your vicious head.”
“What?”