Pay S. (Jumping up.) What! you know my pard, stranger! Now why did ye go beatin’ round the bush? That aint a square deal! Why didn’t ye jist walk in an’ hang up yer hat? Take that there chair! No, but ye must. (Law takes chair.) We haint much hyur, but all we got belongs to any friends o’ Old Silence. Scuse me, I mean your friend Vance.
Law. Oh, that’s all right, no apologies.
Pay S. Stranger, I’m cussed glad to see you. Shake! Wy, we’ve been hyur two year and never a soul come along that was an old friend. I’ve a whole raft o’ kin in Missouri, but none of ’em drifts to this camp. You kin bet yer liver, pard’ll be glad to see ye.
Law. I hope so, it’s a good while since I saw him.
Pay S. I’ll bet my share in the Little Lucy—an’ we was offered $100,000 last week fur it—that my pardner haint any friends he’s ashamed of.
Law. No, he isn’t that kind.
Pay S. That’s straight! ye can’t tell me nothin’ about him an’ his outfit. Anything he says goes, on this hill. That’s ’cause he doesn’t say much.
Law. Where is Mr. Vance to-day?
Pay S. I was jist wonderin’ myself, when you dropped in. The gun aint gone so I ’low he isn’t far away.