"Will this do, or shall I telephone the cashier to assure its payment?"
"It's good," said Lamson.
"Very well. But if you are so sure about the price of hops, Mr. Two Lies, why don't you make it two to one that I can't get seventeen cents?"
"That's my money!" and Lamson began counting out another hundred.
"Or three to one that I can't get eighteen cents?"
"It goes!"
"Or four to one that I can't get nineteen cents?"
"Yes; or five to one that you can't get twenty," roared the exasperated planter.
"Five to one," replied Kitsap. "And if I win, I will throw your money in silver from the steps of the reservation school to the Indian children."
Kitsap noted the effect on the Indians in the room as the money was placed in the hands of the town marshal. He knew how every red man on the reservation would work for twenty-cent hops now.