"Call it six hundred," said Billy briskly. "It's only right for you to take something at an auction thisaway. Strip off six hundred dollars worth of greenbacks and put them in your pocket."
"Oh, I wouldn't feel right about taking more than the regular price," demurred Hazel.
"No reason why you shouldn't. No reason a-tall. Jack's only paying you for the damage he did. He's glad to pay. Ain't you, Jack?"
"I suppose so," grunted Jack.
"There, you see. Your uncle would want you to. I know he would. In fact, he'd be a heap put out if you didn't. Those bumps of your's now. What do you say to one hundred wheels a bump? You got three bumps and a scratched nose. Which last counts as a bump. In round numbers that makes four hundred dollars. One thousand dollars to you, Miss Walton."
"Here!" cried the outraged Jack Murray. "You're robbin' me! You're takin' every nickel I got!"
"No, I ain't," denied Billy, "and don't go and get excited and put those hands down. Don't you, now. About that money—the worst is yet to come. Young Riley Tyler not being here to assess his own damages, I'll assess 'em for him. You put three holes in Riley. Call it two hundred dollars a hole. That makes six hundred dollars. Just put that six hundred in a separate pile for Riley, Miss Walton."
"I don't mind the man paying for the mules," said Miss Walton firmly, "but I can't take any money for my scratch or two."
Billy looked at her, decided she meant it and said:
"All right, put that four hundred with Riley's six. Riley won't mind."