"If you're going to pay, you'd better be about it," he said to Derf. "I've got some buying to do when I get my money, and Frazee's store is a right smart ways from here." Derf came through the fence and laid a detaining hand on Satan's mane, getting nipped at for his pains. "You ain't got the time to go down to the store and buy, and git back home by night," he argued. [120] "Better trade with me, Lance. I brung up a wagon load of goods last time I was down. I aim to put in shelving and set up regular next month." A quick change went over Lance's face. "Have you got any women's slippers--that size?" the bridegroom asked eagerly, drawing Callista's shoe from his pocket. Derf took the shoe in his hand and fingered it, bending so his countenance was concealed. Lance became aware of a heaving of the man's shoulders, a gurgling, choking sound that at length resolved itself into a fierily offensive chuckle. "Buyin' shoes for her the fust day!" snickered Garrett Derf. The young fellow bent from his saddle and swooped the bit of foot-gear out of the other's fingers--it looked so much as though he would clout Garrett Derf on the side of the head with it that the latter dodged hastily. "Are you going to trade, or are you not?" he asked with blazing eyes. "I got something else to do besides stand here talking." "I'll give you half," bantered Derf, still holding discreetly out of range, but wiping the tears of delicious mirth from the corners of his eyes. "I'll take it," returned Lance sharply, thrusting forth his hand. "Have you got it with you?" The chance was too good to lose. Derf [121] instantly ceased chuckling, reached down in a capacious pocket and hauled up a great wallet, out of which he began to count the money, looking up furtively every moment to see if Lance had been only jesting, or if his temper and that reckless spirit of his were sufficiently roused to carry through the outrageous trade. But when the few bills and the bit of silver were ready, Lance took them, put them carelessly into his pocket without the usual careful fingering and counting, and wheeled Satan toward the road. "Ain't you goin' to tell a body 'howdy'?" came a treble hail from the cabin as he did so, and Ola Derf's small face, still disfigured from her tears of last night, presented itself at the doorway. "Lance, wait a minute--I want to speak with you," the girl called; and then she came running down to the fence and out into the road. "Was you and Pap a-fussin'? Ye ain't goin' to be mad with us becaze Callista and her folks never was friendly with us, air ye?" she inquired doubtfully, looking up at him with drowned eyes.