“And what?” demanded Chuckwalla. “You know what I done with it, Angel. Don’t start gettin’ tough with me, or I’ll hang yore hide on the fence.”
“Chuckwalla,” said Rance mildly, “I’d like to talk with Angel alone.”
“Shore thing.”
Chuckwalla went into the house and began preparing a meal.
“Well, go ahead and talk,” said Angel impatiently.
“You do the talkin’. You’re more interested than I am.”
“I’m sure interested enough,” agreed Angel. “Do you think I made a crooked deal against you?”
“I watched pretty close, Angel.”
“You would,” sneered Angel. “You never trusted me very far.”
“Too far—mebby. But that’s outside the question. No matter what me and Chuckwalla thought—we kept still, Angel.”