“No-o-o-o, lookin’ for a job. We’re too intelligent to look for work, pardner.”
Moran smiled and offered them cigars, which were declined.
“How about my offer?” he asked anxiously.
The tall one elevated his eyebrows and looked at his companion.
“I’ll tell you what we will do with you,” said the short one. “You can ride my bronc, if you’ll pay twenty-five dollars and give me a railroad ticket to that town. I’ll wait for the train tomorrow afternoon.”
“Cinch!” Moran dug in his pocket and drew out a ticket. “Here’s mine. How soon do we start?”
“Right now, if the bartender will let me have half of his bed tonight,” said the short one.
“Pleased to have you,” nodded the bartender. “I won’t have to talk to myself tonight.”
“I’ll leave my baggage with you,” said Moran.
“All right.”