I was tellin' 'em ef the folks had
the sense of a blind louse they'd dope out a reward, an' make it big.
I guessed they'd get the gang quick that way. Y'see, it don't matter
who it is, folks is all after dollars--if there's only enough of 'em.
Life's jest made up of two sorts o' guys, the fellers with dollars an'
them without. Wal, I guess it's a sort o' play goes right on all the
time. You just raise hell around till you get 'em, the other fellers
raise hell till you ain't. It's a sort o' give and take, though I
reckon the taking seems to be the general scheme adopted. That's how
it comes Lightfoot an' his gang got a nasty kink in most o' their
necks. It's them dollars. Some wise guy around here jest took himself
by the neck and squeezed out a present of ten thousand dollars to the
feller who'd sell up Lightfoot's good-will an' business. What
happened? Why, it took jest about twenty-four hours for the
transaction to be put through. Say, ever hear tell of a time when
ther' wa'an't some feller waiting ready to grab on to ten thousand
dollars? No, sir.
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