ar you'll fin' me. I done tuk a job
as de fust chief 'sistant wild-animal trainer, an' right dar I'll be
waitin'. So den you turns de bar'l over to me an' you goes on back home
an' you furgits all 'bout it. Den in 'bout two weeks mo' when I gits
back yere I brings you a piece o' writin' f'um de gen'elman in Memphis
sayin' dat de bar'l has been delivered to him in good awder, an' den you
pays me de rest o' de money dat's comin' to me." He had a canny second
thought. "Mebbe," he added, "mebbe it would be better for all concern'
ef you wrote to yore frien' in Memphis to hand me over de rest of de
money when I delivers de bar'l. Yassuh, I reckins dat would be de best."

"The rest of what money?" demanded Mr. Rosen sharply. "I ain't said
nothing about giving no money to nobody. What do you mean--money?"

"I mean de rest of de money which'll be comin' to me ez my share,"
explained Red Hoss patiently. "De white man dat's goin' to he'p me wid
dis yere job, he 'sists p'intedly dat he must have his share paid down
cash in advance 'count of him not bein' able to come back yere an'
collek it fur hisse'f, an' likewise 'count of him not keerin' to have no
truck wid de gen'elman at de other end of de line. De way he put it, he
wants all of his'n 'fore he starts. But me, Ise willin' to wait fur de
bes' part of mine anyhow. So dat's how it stands, Mist' Rosen, an'
'scusin' you an' me an' dis yere white man an' your frien' in Memphis,
dey ain't nary pusson gwine know nothin' 'bout it a-tall, 'ceptin' mebbe
hit's de lion. An' ez fur dat, w'y de lion don't count noways, 'count
of him not talkin' no language 'ceptin' 'tis his own language."

"The lion?" echoed Mr. Rosen blankly. "What lion? First you tell me blue
barrel and then you tell me lion."

"I means Chieftain--de larges' black-mangy Nubbin lion in captivation,"
stated Red Hoss grandly, quoting from memory his own recollection of an
inscription he but lately had read for the first time. "Mist' Rosen,
twixt you an' me, I reckins dey ain't no revenue officer in de whole
state of Tennessee which is gwine go projeckin' round a lion cage
lookin' fur evidence."

Disclosing the crux of his plot, his voice took on a jubilant tone.
"Mist' Rosen, please, suh, lissen to me whut Ise revealin' to you. Dat
blue bar'l of yourn is gwine ride f'um yere plum' to Memphis, Tennessee,
in a cage wid a lion ez big ez ary two lions got ary right to be! An'
now den, Mist' Rosen, le's you an' me talk 'bou