il finally it got to be a
matter of pride between 'em to cut each other's throats in some
horse-trade They would talk and haggle, and drive away and come back,
and jockey each other for months; but they always paid cash and if one
of 'em got stuck he'd trade the horse off to some woman. Well, one day
the livery-stable man drove past the deacon's house with a fine, free,
high-stepping bay; and every afternoon for about a week he'd go by at a
pretty good clip. The deacon he'd rush out and try to flag him, but the
livery-stable keeper wouldn't stop; until finally the deacon's curiosity
got the best of his judgment and he went out and laid in wait for him.

"'How much do you want for that hoss?' he says when the livery-stable
man came to a stop.

"'Two hundred dollars,' says the livery-stable keeper.

"'I'll give you fifty!' barks the deacon coming out to look him over and
the livery-stable man tossed him the reins.

"'The hoss is yours,' he says, and the deacon knowed he was stung.

"Quick work," said Denver, "but I'm not like the deacon. I'm going to
look around."

"Oh, sure, sure!" protested Bunker, "take all the time you want, but
this offer is only good for one week. I've got a special reason for
wanting to make a sale or I'd never let you look at this claim. Why, the
Professor himself has told me a thousand times that it's a better
proposition than the Burro, so you can see that I am making it
attractive. And I ain't pretending that I'm making you the offer for any
bull-con reason. I might say that I wanted you to do some work, or to
open up the district; but the fact of the matter is I need the five
hundred dollars. I've seen times before this war when a hundred thousand
cash wouldn't pry me loose from that claim, but now it's yours for five
hundred dollars if you honestly think it's worth it. And if you don't,
that's all right, there's no hard feeling between us and you can go and
buy from the Professor. You wasn't born yesterday and you're a good,
hard-rock miner; so enough said, there's the claim, right there."

He waved his hand at the steep shoulder of the hill, where the canyon
had cut through the rim-rock; and as Denver looked at the formation of
the ground a gleam came into his eyes. The claim took in the silted edge
of the rim, where the strata had been laid bare, and along through the
middle of the varicolored layers there ran a broad streak of iron-red.
Into this a streak of copper-stained green had