"The hell I don't!" howled Milt. "If you think I'm afraid---- Just to

show you I'm not, I'll let you go on today!"

"That's sense, my boy. It would be a shame for two such born companions

of the road to part!" Pinky had soared up from his blankets; was

lovingly shaking Milt's hand.

Milt knew that he had been tricked, but he felt hopeless. Was it

impossible to insult Pinky? He tried again: "I'll be frank with you. You're the worst wind-jamming liar I ever met.

Now don't reach for that gat of yours. I've got a hefty rock right here

handy."

"But, my dear, dear boy, I don't intend to reach for any crude lethal

smoke-wagon. Besides, there isn't anything in it. I hocked the shells in

Butte. I am not angry, merely grieved. We'll argue this out as we have

breakfast and drive on. I can prove to you that, though occasionally I

let my fancy color mere untutored fact with the pigments of a Robert J.

Ingersoll---- By the way, do you know his spiel on whisky?"

"Stick to the subject. We'll finish our arguing right now, and I'll

give you breakfast, and we'll sadly part."

"Merely because I am lighter of spirits than this lugubrious old world?

No! I decline to be dropped. I'll forgive you and go on with you. Mind

you, I am sensitive. I will not intrude where I am not welcome. Only you

must give me a sounder reason than my diverting conversational powers

for shucking me. My logic is even stronger than my hedonistic contempt

for hitting the pike."

"Well, hang it, if you must know---- Hate to say it, but I'd do almost

anything to get rid of you. Fact is, I've been sort of touring with a

lady and her father, and you would be in the way!"

"Aaaaaaah! You see! Why, my boy, I will not only stick, but for you, I

shall do the nimble John Alden and win the lady fair. I will so bedizen

your virile, though somewhat crassly practical gifts---- Why, women are

my long suit. They fall for----"

"Tut, tut, tut! You're a fool. She's no beanery mistress, like you're

used to. She really is a lady."

"How blind you are, cruel friend. You do not even see that whatever my

vices may be, my social standing----"

"Oh--shut--up! Can't you see I'm trying to be kind to you? Have I simply

got to beat you up before you begin to suspect you aren't welcome? Your

social standing isn't even in the telephone book. And your

vocabulary---- You let too many 'kids' slip in among the juicy words.

Have I got to lick----"

"Well. You're right. I'm a fliv. Shake hands, m' boy, and no hard

feelings."




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