They're
mine. But it's 'bout how he put it. Wal, when the play was over he'd
had his wish. He was dropped plumb in his tracks. Then I handed his
widder the dollars. She ain't around these parts now so it don't
matter handin' you the story of it. Maybe she's married agin. She was
some picture woman. But anyway I'd say right here, the woman who could
take the price of men's lives would be low enough to bluff a boy like
Peters here out of his stock of dollars on a play like these rights.
An' that's why I reckon this thing's been done on the crook."
He reached round for his glass and took a deep drink in the silence
that followed his story. Then, as neither the man who was to
arbitrate, nor Peters, attempted to break it, he went on:
"Guess a reward's jest a reward, an' you can't kick at the feller who
comes along an' grabs a holt on it. But when a woman, young, a
good-looker, an' eddicated, an' refined, gits grabbin', why, it makes
you see sulphur an' brimstone, an' horns an' hoofs when your thoughts
are full o' buzzin' white wings an' harps, an' halos an' things.
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