‘What became of yore cook out there?’
‘Old Napoleon Bonaparte Briggs? Did Morgan say anythin’ about him, Hartley?’
‘Somethin’ about bustin’ a safe at the 6X6.’
‘Uh-huh,’ Spike wiped his lips with the back of his hand. ‘Well, I dunno. Far be it from me to say he did or didn’t. I’m no mind-reader. Dave Morgan found the safe empty, and he kinda intimated that some of us had a hand in the thing. We shore called his bet—and quit. I don’t say I wouldn’t snag me an orejano, but I won’t rob no penny-ante safe. Let’s have us a drink, tall feller. How’s the tenderfoot?’
‘He’s all right,’ laughed Hashknife.
‘What’s that damn lunatic doin’ here, anyway? Nobody knows what he came for. I thought he was a weak sister, and I found m’self flat on m’ back. I could almost be friends with a feller who can hit that hard. Let’s go and have that drink.’
Hashknife accepted the drink in order to find out a few things from Spike. He wasn’t just sure about Spike; so he didn’t want to rush matters too strong.
‘What are you boys goin’ to do now?’ asked Hashknife.
‘We don’t know,’ replied Spike. ‘We’ve got to get jobs. I think I’ll head south, down into the Juniper River country. Used to punch cows down there, and I mebby can land a winter job.’
‘You’ve been on the 6X6 quite a while, ain’t yuh?’