"An’ will you shut up about that ’dobe an’ yore four men?" snapped Lefty. "Can’t you say nothin’ less ’n it’s about that mud hut?" Jimmy smiled maddeningly at the irritated crowd. "As I was sayin’ before you all interrupted me, I ’ll feel hurt—" "You _will_; an’ quick!" snapped Carter. "You quit gougin’ that counter!" Bill craned his neck to examine the carving, and forthwith held out a derisively pointing forefinger. "Cayuse?" he inquired sarcastically. "Looks more like th’ map of th’ United States, with some almost necessary parts missin’. Your geography musta been different from mine." The artist smiled brightly. "Here ’s a man with imagination, th’ emancipator of thought. It’s crude an’ untrained, but it’s there. Imagination is a hopeful sign, for it is only given to human bein’s. From this we surmise an’ must conclude that Bill is human." "Will somebody be liar enough to say th’ same of you?" politely inquired the dealer. "Will you fools shut up?" demanded the man who would sleep. He had been on guard half the night. "But you oughta label it, Jimmy," said Bill. "You ’ve got California bulgin’ too high up, an’ Florida sticks out th’ wrong way. Th’ Great Lakes is _all_ wrong—looks like a kidney slippin’ off of Canada. An’ where’s Texas?" "Huh! It ’d have to be a cow to show Texas," grinned Dad Johnson, who, it appeared, also had an imagination and wanted people to know it. "You cuttin’ in on this teet-a-teet?" demanded Jimmy, dodging the compliments of the sleepy individual. "As a map it is no good," decided Bill decisively. "It is no map," retorted Jimmy. "I know where California bulges an’ how Florida sticks out. What you call California is th’ south end of th’ cayuse, above which I ’m goin’ to put th’ tail—" "Not if I’m man enough, you ain’t!" interposed Carter, with no regard for politeness. "—where I ’m goin’ to put th’ tail," repeated Jimmy. "Florida is one front laig raised off th’ ground—" "Trick cayuse, by Scott!" grunted George Bruce. "No wonder it looks like a map." "Th’ Great Lakes is th’ saddle, an’ Maine is where th’ mane goes—_Ouch_!" "Mangy pun," grinned Bill. "Kentucky ought to be under th’ saddle," laughed Dad, smacking his lips. "Pass th’ bottle, John." "You take too much an’ we’ll all be Ill-o’-noise," said Charley Logan alertly. "Them Injuns can’t come too soon to suit _me_," growled Fred Thomas. "Who started this, anyhow?" The sleepy man arose on one elbow, his eyes glinting. "After th’ fight, you ask _me_ th’ same thing! Th’ answer will be ME!" he snapped. "I ’m goin’ to clean house in about two minutes, an’ fire you all out in th’ street!" Jimmy smiled down at him. "Well, you needn’t be so sweepin’ an’ extensive in yore cleanin’ operations," he retorted. "All you gotta do is go outside an’ roll in th’ dust like a chicken." The crowd roared its appreciation and the sleepy individual turned over again, growling sweeping opinions.