“What do you think of that now;––the Rattler turned ‘good Samaritan’?
“And you did it just out of the goodness of your kind, unselfish, little, palpitating heart, Dalton?”
“I ain’t throwin’ any bouquets at myself,” remarked Dalton.
“And where are the horses you were so kind as to look after for me?”
“I made a better sale of them hat-racks than you ever could ’a’ done. I got eight hundred bucks for the bunch. And I’m ready to give you a cheque for that amount, less ten percent for puttin’ the deal through;––seven hundred and twenty bucks, the minute you hand over the phoney agreement which I was dam-fool enough to give you at the time to satisfy your would-be lawyer’s intooition and to keep you from yappin’ all over the country.”
Jim went up to the desk and leaned over toward Dalton.
Dalton leaned back in his chair, so far back that he nearly tip-tilted over it.
“Rattler,” said Jim, “come off your perch. It isn’t any good. ‘’Tain’t the knowing kind of cattle that is ketched with mouldy corn,’” he quoted roughly.
“I ain’t professin’ to be up to your high-falutin’ talk, Langford, but I get the drift; and I guess you think I’d be batty enough to give you a ranch worth seven thousand bucks on an Agreement for Sale in exchange for a 255 bunch of old spavined mules and three thousand bucks on time.”
Jim pulled the Agreement out of his pocket and threw it on the desk, thumping his fist down hard on top of it right under Rattlesnake’s sharp nose, causing Dalton to jump again.