“Chuck.” Hassayampa grinned from ear to ear. “I got him loaded and he spilled it all to me. Don’t blame Chuck, Jay-Bird, ’cause he was too full to think what he was doing. Sabe? He told me all about what you bought and why you came home after more money.”
“Oh!” grunts Jay-Bird. “He told you, did he? What did he say I came here after more money for, Hassayampa Harris?”
“Haw! Haw! Haw! For why, eh? Haw! Haw! Haw! I beat you to it, J. B. I bought the Mastadon Carnival outfit myself.”
Jay-Bird looks at Hassayampa for a moment, and then falls right off the steps.
“Some shock, eh?” grins Hassayampa. “Maybe I should have told him more easy-like.”
We turned Jay-Bird over on his back and he’s laughing so danged hard that his jaws are almost locked. He ain’t able to talk for some time. After a while he shuts off the tears and looks at Hassayampa.
“Chuck told you that? Haw! Haw! Haw!”
Hassayampa sets there, fooling with his six-shooter and staring at Jay-Bird’s tears; then he swings his bronc around, abrupt-like.
“Where you—Haw! Haw! Haw!—going?” asks Jay-Bird.
“I’m going to kill Chuck Warner. He lied to me!”