“He ’lowed it ’ud be useful to us.”
“Huh! He mighta said more. Yonder’s Fox, lookin’ fer all the world like a turkey buzzard, drat him. I’d like tuh give that old skinflint a piece uh my mind. Set up straight, can’t yuh? Goodness, a person ’ud think you was a hunchback. If them new galluses is too tight, let ’em out a notch.”
The couple approached the tree. Fox, his long leg still crooked across his saddle horn, lifted his hat with an air of mocking gallantry.
“The dried up ol’ he school-marm,” muttered Ma Basset, freezing him with a hard stare.
Fox’s head, bare as a billiard ball, disappeared beneath the wide-brimmed black hat.
“I understood there was a bunch of cattle to be delivered here, Basset,” he said as if surprised to see no herd. “My two boys are bringing them, perhaps?”
“Perhaps,” snapped Ma Basset. “’Tain’t noon yet.”
“On such a beautiful Sabbath morning, we mortals should forget our quarrels, Mrs. Basset. I come on an errand of peace. Ours should be a relationship of neighborly friendship instead on enmity.”
His bony hand indicated Basset’s sign. “It is my wish that such things should not exist, madam. In my pocket is your note. I would gladly destroy that bit of paper and seal, in that manner, our bond of mutual friendship. In return, I ask for something that is of little value. Namely, the transfer of your iron into my name. It is evident that but a handful of cattle in that iron exist. I am offering to lift the burden of debt from you in return for a brand that has no value.”
“Why?” snapped Ma Basset.