“And you want to be a cowpuncher—with five hundred dollars!”
“Isn’t it enough?”
“Don’ nobody speak for a moment,” begged Oyster. “I want to conchentrate. I’m about to go into a tranch.”
“Sh-h-h-h-h!” warned Johnny. “The man is looking into the future.”
“Is he a medium?” asked Jim Legg, owl-eyed, as he stared at Oyster.
“Medium ——! He’s rare,” chucked Eskimo.
“I shee shomethin’ comin’ to a man named Jim Legg,” stated Oyster, his eyes closed tightly.
“Yuh see?” applauded Johnny.
“Yessir,” nodded Jim. “Maybe we better let him alone, while we get me shome clothes.”
“He’s comin’ out of it,” announced Eskimo.