The marshal was goaded to speech. “We don't pay in scrip.”
“But you do, man! You know you do!”
“We give it when they ask their money ahead.”
“The law requires you to pay them twice a month, and you don't do it. You pay them once a month, and meantime, if they need money, you give them this imitation money!”
“Well, if it satisfies them, where's your kick?”
“If it doesn't satisfy them, you put them on the train and ship them out?”
The marshal sat in silence, tapping impatiently with his fingers on the desk.
“Cotton,” Hal began, again, “I'm out for education, and there's something I'd like you to explain to me—a problem in human psychology. When a man puts through a deal like this, what does he tell himself about it?”
“Young man,” said the marshal, “if you'll pardon me, you are getting to be a bore.”
“Oh, but we've got an automobile ride before us! Surely we can't sit in silence all the way!” After a moment he added, in a coaxing tone, “I really want to learn, you know. You might be able to win me over.”