Well, that’s the way they had it back and forth: every time they would settle down to business an’ Eugene would get a square inch o’ the ol’ man’s face cleared up, one of us boys would speak something in a low tone about there bein’ rumors of an uncommon big squirrel out at some ranch house a hundred miles or so from there. Eugene would ask what breed of squirrel it was, an’ then decide that it couldn’t be a patchin’ on a genuwine short-tailed grizzly ground-squirrel, an’ then ol’ man Dort couldn’t stand it no longer an’ he would forget what he was doin’, bob up in his chair, an’ lose some more of his life fluid. Eugene scraped down both sides o’ the ol’ man’s face, givin’ all of his razors a chance to take part in the job, an’ then he set his lips an’ started in on the chin. “What does short-tailed grizzly ground-squirrels eat, Eugene?” asked Spider Kelley, as innocent as an infant pigeon. “They eat chickens,—” began Eugene, but ol’ man Dort flew clean out o’ the chair an’ stood over Eugene shakin’ with rage. “Chickens?” he roars. “Chickens! The’ never was a squirrel foaled into this world what et chickens.” Eugene looked at ol’ man Dort, an’ then he wiped his razor an’ sat down on a chair, so full of disgust that he could hardly breathe. “I wish you’d take off that apron an’ bleed into the spittoon,” he said as calm as he could. “I’ve got customers whose patronage is what makes up my living expenses; an’ I don’t want ’em to come in here an’ see the whole place a welter of gore. “What do you think this shop is, anyway?” yelled Eugene springing to his feet an’ entirely losin’ his patience. “Do you think that I make my livin’ by grubbin’ down wire grass which has been let grow for fifty years, an’ educatin’ ignoramuses in the knowledge of squirrels? I don’t care whether you believe in short-tailed grizzly ground-squirrels or not; but if you don’t let me tie your head down to that chair, I won’t shave another sprout off your chin. I take some pride in my profession, an’ I don’t intend to have no man go out o’ my shop leavin’ a trail o’ blood which will draw all the dogs for miles around. Now, you can take your choice.” Ol’ man Dort had to give in that this was reasonable enough; so he climbed back into the chair, an’ Eugene tied down his head an’ finished him off without any more trouble. As soon as he had stopped the bleedin’ an’ put on the perfume an’ oil an’ powder, he sez: “Now, what I am goin’ to do is to get some nourishment to recuperate back my strength, an’ if you want the waste products washed out o’ your hair, you come back here at one o’clock prompt.” “I want to settle on that bet first,” said ol’ man Dort, who was just as pernicious as Eugene, once you got him riled up. “I’ll make that bet with you after dinner,” sez Eugene, “but first off I got to have food; I’m faint with weakness. Now, I’m goin’ to lock up my shop.”