We were drawing in to Los Angeles when he rejoined me. To my surprise he emptied his pockets of wrinkled notes and winking silver to the tune of twenty dollars, and dividing it equally, handed half to me.
"Here," says he, "plant that in your dip."
"No," I said, "just give me back what you borrowed; that's all I want."
"Oh, forget it! You staked me, and it's well won. These guinneys took me for a jay. Thought I was easy, but I've forgotten more than they ever knew, and I haven't forgotten so much either."
"No, you keep it, please. I don't want it."
"Oh, come! put your Scotch scruples in your pocket. Take the money."
"No," I said obstinately.
"Look here, this partnership of ours is based on financial equality. If you don't like my gate, you don't need to swing on it."
"All right," said I tartly, "I don't want to."
Then I turned on my heel.