"The clerk of yourn said he didn't know, an' ez there wa'n't no call to
pester him, I said I'd jest drop round an' see you. I don't care what
it's wuth. Make it a hundred even; that'll do me handy.
"Say," he went on easily, noting the decidedly negative poise of the
other's head. "I've got a tolerable sweet tooth, I have. Recollect
the taffy I made over on Preacher Creek that time? I declare! how time
does fly! That was all of six years ago if it's a day. More'n that,
surely. Seven, by the Jimcracky! But ez I was sayin', I'd ruther do
without my plug of 'Star' than sugar. An' about that sugar? Got my
dogs outside. Better go round to the warehouse an' git it, eh? Pretty
good idea."
But he saw the "No" shaping on Jacob Welse's lips, and hurried on
before it could be uttered.
"Now, I don't want to hog it. Wouldn't do that fer the world. So if
yer short, I can put up with seventy-five--" (he studied the other's
face), "an' I might do with fifty. I 'preciate your position, an' I
ain't low-down critter enough to pester--"
"What's the good of spilling words, Dave? We haven't a pound of sugar
to spare--"
"Ez I was sayin', I ain't no hog; an' seein' 's it's you, Welse, I'll
make to scrimp along on twenty-five--"
"Not an ounce!"
"Not the least leetle mite? Well, well, don't git het up. We'll jest
fergit I ast you fer any, an' I'll drop round some likelier time.
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