“And maybe live longer,” said Sleepy. “Things that might make others shoot— make us laugh. You better tie up yore bronc.”
Jimmy tied his horse to a ring in the patio wall, and they went inside the patio, where they found Marion and Barnhardt. She shook hands with Jimmy, who protested that he was better than he ever was. Barnhardt looked him over coldly, but no one bothered to introduce them.
“I’m looking for a job,” laughed Jimmy. “I told Mr. Bonnette that I was going to offer my services to you, and he said it would be all right with him. He was very nice about it.”
“He knows the salary,” said Hashknife. “We split it three ways.”
“Well, that’s mighty nice of you, Jimmy,” said Marion.
“Don’t mention it, Marion.”
Barnhardt cleared his throat raspingly. He wanted to voice an objection, but had none. Hashknife’s eyes were smiling, but his mouth was serious, as he watched the lawyer’s face.
“I think we are being well taken care of, Mr. Barnhardt,” said Marion, her eyes dancing.
“Oh, hu—er—yes, indeed.” Barnhardt mopped his face with a silk handkerchief. “Very, very well, Miss Taylor. I—I guess I will be going along.”
“Come again,” said Hashknife cordially. Barnhardt flashed a glance at him, as he held out his hand to Marion.