Cassidy, Hopalong (Fictitious character) -- Fiction; Western stories
Tex laughed, leaned back, and with humorous verbal pigments painted a
rapidly changing picture to the best of his by no means poor ability.
He took them up to the digging of the post holes, and then leaned
forward. "Murphy said we’d build a four-sided fence, three posts to th’
side, makin twelve in all. That suited us, an’ as there was only one
spade, we told him to go ahead an’ dig his holes while we worked on th’
nest boxes. He was to do th’ north an’ th’ south sides, which he said
was fair." The speaker paused a moment, leaning back in his chair, his
eyelids nearly closed. Between their narrowed openings he looked
swiftly around. The card players grinned in expectation of some joke
about to appear, Williams looked suspicious and puzzled, but the
bartender’s eyes popped open and he choked back a sudden burst of
laughter. Tex drew in a long breath, pushed back into his chair and
glanced around at the players. "I was honest an’ fair enough to say th’
diggin’ wasn’t evenly divided, us bein’ two an’ him only one. What do
you boys say?"
"What’s it all amount to anyhow?" snarled the nephew. "Who cares if it
was or not? What did you think of th’ gal?" he demanded.
Tex breathed deeply, relaxed, and gravely considered his boots. "Well,
if I was aimin’ to start a kindergarten I might have took more notice cf
her--an’ you, too, bub. Can’t you do yore own lookin’?" he plaintively
demanded. "Anyhow, I was warned fair, wasn’t I? Huh! When you get to
be my age an’ have had my experience with this fool world you won’t be
takin’ no more interest in ’em than I do. Beggin’ yore pardon for
interruptin’ th’ previous conversation we was holdin’. I’ll perceed from
where I was." He looked back at the card players. "We was debatin’ th’
fairness of th’ offer to dig them holes. What you boys say?"
The man nearest to him pursed his lips and cogitated. The subject was no
more frivolous than the majority of subjects which had furnished bones
of contention many a night. Most barroom arguments start on even less.
"I reckon it was, him bein’ more used to diggin’."
His partner leaned forward. "What did he say about it, at first?"
"He was shore satisfied," answered Tex as the bartender, turning his
back on the room, shook with the ague.
The last questioner bobbed his head decisively. "Then it shore was
fair."
Williams nodded slowly, for his opinions were not lightly given. "I’d
say it was. What about it?"
"Oh, nothin’ much," growled Tex. "I reckon he changed his mind later
on." He looked over at the gambler leaning against the wall, the same
gambler he had seen on the train. At this notice Denver Jim, sensing
possible bets, straightened up, winked, and made a sign which among his
class was a notification that he had declared himself in for half the
winnings of a game. Tex shook his head slightly and frowned, as if
deeply puzzled over Murphy’s conduct. The gambler repeated the sign and
moved forward.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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