"We've got to have a foreman on the Cedar Branch, Dick," he began, "and
you're the fellow."
To this Darrell offered a profane, emphatic and contemptuous negative.
With consummate diplomacy Tally led his mind from sullen obstinacy to
mere reluctance. At the corner of Main Street the three stopped.
"But I don't want to go yet, Jim," pleaded Darrell, almost tearfully. "I
ain't had all my 'time' yet."
"Well," said Tally, "you've been polishing up the flames of hell for
four days pretty steady. What more do you want?"
"I ain't smashed no rig yet," objected Darrell.
Tally looked puzzled.
"Well, go ahead and smash your rig and get done with it," he said.
"A' right," said Darrell cheerfully.
He started off briskly, the others following. Down a side street his
rather uncertain gait led them, to the wide-open door of a frame livery
stable. The usual loungers in the usual tipped-back chairs greeted him.
"Want m' rig," he demanded.
A large and leisurely man in shirt sleeves lounged out from the office
and looked him over dispassionately.
"You've been drunk four days," said he, "have you the price?"
"Bet y'," said Dick, cheerfully.
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