"I'm looking," interrupted Slike, "and three thousand dollars is all I can see. You gotta expect to pay for your mistakes, Rafe. If you didn't want to have this sheriff hold office, what did you elect him for? You told me your political outfit was responsible."
"How could we tell he'd turn out this way? We took it for granted he'd do what the party wanted, and the first card out of the box he appoints his own deputies."
"Good men with a gun?"
"Both of 'em," Rafe nodded absently.
"Wingo's no slouch himself," Shindle supplied without thinking.
"And that's the kind of bunch you want me to go up against for a thousand dollars!" exclaimed Dan Slike. "You fellers sure have your nerve!"
Slike teetered his chair back on two legs and laughed loudly, but without cheer. Rafe and Skinny found themselves somewhat chilled by the sardonic merriment. They looked one upon the other. Slike caught the look and laughed anew.
"You're a fine pair," he said loudly, "a fine pair. Letting a two-by-four sheriff run you. Ha-ha, it's a joke!"
"You go slow, you hear!" directed Skinny Shindle.
Dan Slike's eyes slid round to survey Skinny. "Me go slow?" he drawled, "Who'll make me? You? Not you or Rafe either. Wanna know why? Because I'm the best man in the room, that's why. Wanna argue the matter?"