"Noah Ezekiel Foster," the girl spoke reprovingly. "You know better than that. You know I want your opinion because I think you know more about cotton than I do." "All right," said Noah, meekly. "Lead on. I got more opinions in my head than Ben Davis' sheep used to have cockle burs in their wool." "What do you think of the Red Butte Ranch?" "It's a blamed fine ranch." "Do you think Mr. Rogeen will make money on it?" She tried to sound disinterested. "That reminds me," replied Noah, "of Sam Scott. Sam went to Dixion and started a pool hall under Ike Golberg's clothing store. After Sam got it all fixed up with nice green-topped tables and white balls, and places to spit between shots, he got me down there to look it over. "'How does she look?' says Sam. "'She looks all right,' I said. "'I'm going to get rich,' declares Sam. "'That all depends' I says, 'on one thing.' "'What's that?' says Sam. "'On whuther there is more money comes down them stairs than goes up.'" Noah twisted his shoulders and again looked up impersonally at the stars. "You see makin' money is mighty simple. All you got to do is take in more than you pay out. But the dickens of it is, losin' it is just as simple--and a durned sight easier." Imogene was smiling into the dusk, but her thoughts were on serious matters. "Well, which do you think Mr. Rogeen will do?" Noah twisted his shoulders again, and shuffled his feet on the ground. "I always hate to give a plumb out opinion--because it nearly always ruins your reputation as a prophet. But Bob ain't nobody's fool. And he's white from his heels to his eyeballs--everything except his liver." Imogene laughed, but felt a swelling in the throat. That tribute from the hill bill meant more than the verdict of a court. "The only trouble is," Noah was speaking a little uneasily himself, "Reedy Jenkins is a skunk and he's got some pizen rats gnawing for him. There ain't nothin' they won't do--except what they are afraid to. Bob's got 'em so they don't tie their goats around his shack any more. But they are going to do him dirt, sure as a tadpole makes a toad. "Reedy Jenkins has got hold of a lot of money somewhere again; and he's set out to bush Bob, and get away with the pile. I don't know just how he's aimin' to do it; but Reedy don't never have any regrets over what happens to the other fellow if it makes money for him." The hill billy's words made Imogene more uneasy than before. And yet looking at the lank, droll fellow sitting there in the starlight, she again smiled, and sighed. "Well, I'm mighty glad Mr. Rogeen has you for a friend," she said aloud. "A friend," observed Noah, "is sorter like a gun--expensive in town but comfortin' in the country. "But really I ain't no good, Miss Chandler. As I used to say to my dad, 'if the Lord made me, he must have done it sort of absent mindedly, for he ain't never found no place for me.'"