* * * * *
"You was too easy with him," declared Swing, as he and Racey were unsaddling at the Bar S corral. "You could 'a' stuck him for three hundred a month just as easy."
Racey shook a decided head. "No, there's a limit even to Old Salt's stubbornness. I know him better'n you do … Aw, what you kicking about? We've got enough coin in our overalls to last out six months if you don't drink too much."
"If I don't drink too much, hey! If I don't drink too much! Which I like that. Who's—"
"Racey," interrupted Tom Loudon, who had approached unperceived, "this is a fine way to treat yore friends."
"What's bitin' you?"
"You hadn't oughta take advantage of Old Salt thisaway."
"And why not? What's wrong with the bet? Fair bet. Leave it to anybody."
"Shore, shore, but alla same, Racey, you'd oughta gone a li'l easy.
Twenty-four hundred dollars—"
"What's the dif? You won't have to pay it."