'We-alls owes for his nailin' them hoss-thiefs when they
tries to clean out the corral.'
"'That's it,' says Enright, 'for ketchin' of some rustlers who lays
for our stock. It's all right, Miss; you needn't look so doubtful.
You wouldn't if you knowed this camp. It's the last outfit on earth
as would go an' give money to people. It's a good straight camp,
Wolfville is; but business is business, an' we ain't pirootin'
'round none, givin' nothin' away, be we, Doc?'
"'Not much,' says Doc. 'It's enough for a gent to pay debts, without
stampedin' 'round makin' presents of things.'
"'That's whatever,' says Enright; 'so Miss, me an Doc'll vamos over
to the Red Light an' get the dust, an' I reckons we'll be back in an
hour. I s'pose we owes Mister Wilkins about 'five hundred dollars,
don't we, Doc?'
"'Tain't so much,' says Doc, who's guileful that a-way. As he sees
the little Sue girl archin' for another buck, he pulls out a paper
an' makes a bluff. 'Yere it is,--four hundred an' ninety-three
dollars an' seventy-four cents. I puts it down all accurate, 'cause
I don't allow no sharp to come 'round an' beat me none.'
"We-alls throws 'round an' makes up the pot to come to Doc's figger-
-which I wants to say right yere, Doc Peets is the ablest gent I
ever sees--an' the little Sue girl has to take it.
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