Dan Slike nodded. "Guess I'll be going, Rafe—No, nemmine dinner, I ain't hungry now."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE TRAPPERS
"It's the women make half the trouble in the world," mused young Riley Tyler, who had received the mitten from his girl of the period, the restaurant waitress, and was a misogynist in consequence.
"You're wrong," said Shotgun Shillman. "They make all of it."
"All?"
"All. And not only that—they make all the good, too. Yep, Riley, you can put down a bet there ain't a thing happens to a feller—good, bad or indifferent—that you won't find a woman at the bottom of it. A good man goes to hell or heaven—it depends on the woman."
"That's right, dead right," corroborated young Riley.
"Those fatal blondes!" grinned Shotgun; for the waitress was decidedly of that type.