That'll put a crimp in him--and if we keep after him
hot and heavy it won't take long to drive him out of the valley."
"Don't believe he's dangerous, anyhow. That last deal was bullhead
luck."
"Yes, but he's stirring around. We don't want anybody poking in. There's
a heap of money in this valley for us, if we can keep it to ourselves,
and the sooner the idea gets abroad that it isn't healthful to butt in,
the better."
"Guess you're right."
If Scattergood could have heard this conversation perhaps he would not
have been so gayly partaking of the softer joys of life. For that is
what Scattergood was doing. He had polished up his buggy, put his new
harness on his horse, and was driving out to make a social call. Not
only that, but it was a social call upon a lady!
Scattergood was lonely sometimes. In one of his moments of loneliness
it had occurred to him that a great many men had wives, and that wives
were, undoubtedly, a remarkably effective insurance against that
ailment.
"I gather," he said, in the course of a casual conversation with Sam
Kettleman, the grocer, "that wives is sometimes inconvenient and
sometimes tryin' on the temper, but on the whole they're returnin'
income on the investment.
Pages:
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66