"—that they're good spenders, as the fellow says," amended the bartender, to be on the safe side.
"When I usta know 'em they had a mighty cute little trick pony—name was
Chiquito, seems to me. Ever hear 'em mention it?"
"They was fussin' about that horse to-day. Seems they got an offer for him and Doble wants to sell. Miller he says no."
"Yes?"
"I'll tell 'em a friend asked for 'em. What name?"
"Yes, do. Jim Smith."
"The fat old gobbler's liable to drop in any time now."
This seemed a good reason to Mr. Jim Smith, alias David Sanders, for dropping out. He did not care to have Miller know just yet who the kind friend was that had inquired for him.
But just as he was turning away a word held him for a moment. The discretion of the man in the apron was not quite proof against his habit of talk.
"They been quarrelin' a good deal together. I expect the combination is about ready to bust up," he whispered confidentially.