Another disappointment seemed in order. Larry King refused to go any farther back east. Neale was exceedingly surprised.
“Do you throw up your job?” he asked.
“Shore not. I can work heah,” replied Larry.
“There won’t be any outside work on these bleak plains in winter.”
“Wal, I reckon I’ll loaf, then,” he drawled.
Neale could not change him. Larry vowed he would take his old place with Neale next spring, if it should be open to him.
“But why? Red, I can’t figure you,” protested Neale.
“Pard, I reckon I’m fur enough back east right heah,” said Larry, significantly.
A light dawned upon Neale. “Red! You’ve done something bad!” exclaimed Neale, in genuine dismay.
“Wal, I don’t know jest how bad it was, but it shore was hell,” replied Larry, with a grin.