“No!––I’m dimmed if I’ll pay that much for her. I want the horse because she’s white all over and there isn’t another like her in colour about the bally town. I like 113 things different, by gad! But I simply won’t be put upon. No, dim it, dim it all,––I just won’t!”
Dalton walked away without a word, then he whirled on his heel and came slowly back.
“Want a mine––a gold mine?”
Percival DeRue Hannington, ever ready to nibble, showed interest.
“Say, Rattlesnake, forget it! Darn it all, do you think you are talking to a crazy man?”
“See here, Ralston!––why don’t you live up to your pet name and keep your trap shut? Butt out!” exclaimed Dalton, curling his upper lip in evident disgust.
“It’s an honest-to-goodness gold mine, Mr. Hannington, and I hold all the rights to it.”
Phil addressed his friend.
“Don’t be foolish now. Everybody in Vernock knows about Dalton’s mine. He can’t give it away.”
“Say, Ralston! if I was big as you and as ugly, I’d knock your face in. Mind your own dirty business and keep out. Mr. Hannington is a man-sized man, with a man-sized bean-pot and doesn’t need a wet nurse with him. He knows whether he wants a mine or not,” said Dalton sourly.