Slim Hunter was dismounting in front of Wesson’s store, so Harp wandered up there. Slim was talking to Cale Wesson about putting up an announcement in his store, when Harp came in.
“Hello, yuh long-geared ant-eater,” greeted Harp.
“Same to you, you bat-eared cattywampus,” grinned Slim. “How are yuh?”
“Finer ’n frawg-hair. Watcha doin’, Slim?”
“Advertisin’ a dance.”
“Tha’sso? Where—Silverton?”
“Y’betcha. Next Friday night. Oyster supper, too. Goin’ to have some reg’lar music, too, Harp. Yuh want t’ be there.”
“Friday night, eh?”
Harp was thinking fast. Here was his chance to take Miss Miller and he was not going to lose any time in asking her.
“See yuh later, Slim,” he grunted, turning to the door. “I’m kinda in a hurry right now.”