“Yeah,” Sleepy did not seem to be very enthusiastic.
“Aw, shake yore hide,” grinned Hashknife. “You act like a mourner at a funeral, cowboy.”
“I’m all right,” muttered Sleepy. “But it makes me tired. Every time we go anywhere, somethin’ happens. There’s no peace anywhere. When them fellers was tellin’ about that hold-up, yore nose was twitchin’ like the nose of a pointer dog. Dang it, me and you didn’t come here to hunt bandits.”
Hashknife chuckled softly.
“And I’m not huntin’ ’em, Sleepy. What do yuh think of that? I ain’t lost no bandits. It’s nothin’ to me how many pay-rolls they steal.”
“Then don’t say nothin’ more about that girl, Hashknife. Ever since you got a look at her, you’ve spoke about her several times.”
“Pshaw! I didn’t realize it, Sleepy. Mebbe I just remarked about her folks all bein’ in jail.”
“Let ’em stay in jail,” grunted Sleepy heartlessly. “They prob’ly robbed that train. We didn’t come here to—”
“I know that sentence by heart, Sleepy. And you ought to know my reply. But that don’t alter the fact that she’s one pretty girl.”
“There yuh go!” gloomily.