“I’m glad yo’re interested,” said Silent dryly. “When a sheriff takes up ridin’ grizzlies and his deputy spends his nights serenadin’ married wimmin, it’s sure hard to interest ’em in such common things as rustlin’ cows.”
“If yuh don’t like our stock of goods, yuh might go and see what Mister Santel has to offer,” replied Harp.
“That hard-faced pelican!” snorted Silent. “I met him out there between here and the Star-Dot. He jist nodded and rode on.”
“What did yuh expect him to do—kiss yuh?”
Silent made a dive for Harp and they went rolling across the floor in a grunting tangle, colliding with one of the cots, each one striving with muscle and voice to stay on top of the other. Silent finally managed to secure the advantage and proceeded to straddle Harp and bounce his head on the floor.
“Get smart with me, will yuh?” panted Silent.
“Leggo my ears!” yelped Harp. “Leggo, I tell yuh!”
“Get up, you two-year-olds!” snorted Brick. “What do yuh think this place is—a saloon?”
“Mind papa,” chuckled Harp.
His indifference to the situation caught Silent off his guard and he managed, with a sudden twist of his body to dump Silent sidewise into the cot, and they both stumbled to their feet.