"That's my mine. I'm just thinkin' of taking a half interest
in the mint. You can pick her to go twenty thousand to the ton--help
yourselves, gents." He began sortin' rock. "Oh, here!" says he,
"wait!"
Then he called his men--Greasers--and spoke to 'em firm in Spanish,
that they was to bring their turkeys and empty their pockets. They
rolled their eyes and talked about saints. "G'wan," says Jack, "if you
fellers didn't know that I knew you were pinchin' me for at least two
hundred a trip you wouldn't respect me. Come, shake your jeans, or
I'll strip you clean when it comes you're between me and my friends."
So, mournin' and groanin', they unloaded about fifty pounds of the
loveliest rock you ever see. There was a piece shaped like a cross
that Ag picked out for himself, but the Greaser that owned it hollered
loud, and Ag give it back to him. "With that in his clothes," says
Aggy, "he can steal religiously--I wouldn't take that comfort from the
poor soul for anything."
"These here Greasers get the best chunks," says Jackson, "because they
got more time to hunt. Now, don't look cross-eyed," says he to 'em; "I
pay you five a day, and you fish two hundred for yourselves." At which
the Greasers smiled a little again, feelin' that things weren't without
their cheerful side.
"Boys, I got to leave you," says Hunter. "The next time you come
through here, you'll see a log cabin built to hold two or more with
comfort, because I ain't such a blatting fool to build a house that's
going to take my wife's attention from me--log cabin's good enough.
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