“He’s just about right,” grinned Brick.
“It’s a good thing that he thinks well of himself,” observed Sam Leach sarcastically.
“’Cause nobody else does, eh?” grinned Brick.
“You said it yourself,” reminded Leach, helping himself to a drink.
Brick laughed and stretched his legs.
“There’s no use of quarrelin’, Leach. You don’t like me, and I sure hate out of you; so let’s let it go as it lays.”
“What’d I ever do to you?” demanded Leach.
“Some folks don’t have to do anythin’ to me,” said Brick coldly. “I’m not that particular.”
“Aw, let’s be friends,” suggested Hank Stagg. “Have a drink, Brick. There ain’t none of us perfect. Sam has had too many shots out of the old bottle today, and it’s kinda soured on him.”
But Brick grinned and declined the drink. Sam got to his feet and picked up his hat.