"
"When we git you once talkin' 'if-only,' the bluff is called," replied
the smith, with a grin. "Now what are you needin' at the shack?"
"You rich fellers want to run the whole shebang," objected Jim, by way
of an easy capitulation. "There never yet was a feller born with a
silver spoon in his mouth that didn't want to put it in every other
feller's puddin'. . . . I was goin' to buy a can or two of condensed
milk and a slab of bacon and a sack of flour and a bean or two and a
little 'baccy, and a few things about like that."
"All right," said the blacksmith, tabulating all these items on his
fingers. "And Field kin look around and see if there ain't some extrys
for little Skeezucks."
"If only I had the determination I wouldn't accept a thing from Parky's
stock," drawled the miner, as before. "I'll go to work on the claim
and pay you back right off."
"Kerrect," answered Webber, as gravely as possible, thinking of the
hundred gaudy promises old Jim had made concerning his undeveloped and
so far worthless claim. "I hope you'll strike it good and rich."
"Wal," drawled Jim; "bad luck has to associate with a little good luck
once in a while, to appear sort of half-way respectable. And my
luck--same as any tired feller's--'ain't been right good Sunday-school
company for several years.
Pages:
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114