“We are,” corrected Hashknife.
“Aw-w!” Sleepy protested softly. “You’re the dangdest person t’ hop into——”
“What’d you do, Sleepy?”
“Well, it ain’t our business noways, Hashknife.”
“Supposin’ Spot Easton was goin’ to meet your sister?”
“But she ain’t my sister.”
“’F you was Lonesome Lee’s son, she would be. Suppose you was, Sleepy.”
“I ain’t—not even supposin’, Hashknife.”
“Gosh a’mighty! Thirty miles! I suppose you’d go if it was sixty. Sixty miles ain’t much.”
“I never been able to figure you out, Hashknife.” Sleepy shook his head disconsolately. “You do the dangdest things I ever seen. Some day you’re goin’ to horn into things what don’t concern you, and you’ll meet a hunk of lead—face to face.