hirty-thirty," he suggested.

"What do you know about thirty-thirties?"

"Huh, I know lots. My other pop was tellin' me you could git a man
with a thirty a whole heap farther than you could with any ole
forty-four or them guns. I shot heaps of rabbits with his."

"Well, we'll see. But you want to git over the idee of gettin' a man
with any gun. That goes with horse-tradin' and liquor and such. But
we sure aim to live peaceful, up here."

Meanwhile, Young Pete, squatting beside Annersley, amused himself by
spitting tobacco juice at a procession of red ants that trailed from
nowhere in particular toward the doorstep.

"Makes 'em sick," he chuckled as a lucky shot dissipated the procession.

"It's sure wastin' cartridges on mighty small game," remarked Annersley.

"Don't cost nothin' to spit on 'em," said Young Pete.

"Not now. But when you git out of chewin'-tobacco, then where you
goin' to git some more?"

"To the store, I reckon."

"Uh-huh. But where you goin' to git the money?"

"He was givin' me all the chewin' I wanted," said Pete.

"Uh-huh. Well, I ain't got no money for chewin'-tobacco. But I tell
you what, Pete. Now, say I was to give you a dollar a week for--for
your wages. And say I was to git you one of them guns like you said;
you couldn't shoot chewin'-tobacco in that gun, could you?"

"Most anybody knows that!" laughed Pete.

"But you could buy cartridges with that dollar--an' shoot lots."

"Would you lick me if I bought chewin'?"

"Shucks, no! I was jest leavin' it to you."

"When do I git that dollar--the first one?"

Annersley smiled to himself. Pete was shrewd and in no way inclined to
commit himself carelessly. Horse-trading had sharpened his wits to a
razor-edge and dire necessity and hunger had kept those wits keen.
Annersley was amused and at the same time wise enough in his patient,
slow way to hide his amusement and talk with Pete as man to man. "Why,
you ain't been workin' for me a week yet! And come to think--that
rooster was worth five dollars--every cent! What you say if I was to
charge that rooster up to you? Then after five weeks you was to git a
dollar, eh?"

Pete pondered this problem. "Huh!" he exclaimed suddenly. "You et
more 'n half that rooster--and some of the hen."

"All right, son. Then say I was to charge you two dollars for what you
et?"

"Then, I guess beans is good enough for me. Anyhow, I never stole your
rooster. I jest shot him.