"Looks like a good chance to lose twenty-four hundred dollars," exclaimed Tom Loudon, wrathfully.
"My Gawd, Tom," said Mr. Saltoun, cocking a grizzled eyebrow, "you don't mean to tell me you think they's any chance a-tall of Racey's winning this bet, do you?"
"They's just about ten times more chance for him to win than to lose."
"Tom, do you ever see any li'l pink lizards with blue tails an' red feet? I hear that's a sign, too."
"Aw right, have it yore own way," said Tom Loudon with every symptom of disgust. "Only don't say I didn't warn you."
"Gawd, Tom, y' old wet blanket, yo're always a-warnin' me. I never see such a feller."
"Aw right, I said. Aw right. But when yo're a-writin' out a check for twenty-four hundred dollars, just remember how I always told you somebody was gonna horn in here some day and glom half the range."
"Laugh," said Mr. Saltoun. "Yo're shore the jokin'est feller, Tom
Loudon. Even Racey and his partner are laughing."
"I should think they would," Tom Loudon returned, savagely. "I'd laugh, too, if I stood to win twenty-four hundred in six months."
Mr. Saltoun shook a whimsical head at Racey Dawson. "Whatsa use?" he asked, sorrowfully. "Whatsa use?"