r. Reedy Jenkins and his Mexican
associates would be very bitter over Bob's getting the Red Butte--and
they might do anything.

The next evening, when Noah Ezekiel came over, Imogene had not gone to
her shack.

"Sit down, Noah," she said, "I want to talk to you."

"That's what my maw used to say when I'd been swimmin' on Sunday,"
observed the hill billy as he let his lank form down on the bench.

Imogene laughed. "Well, I'm not going to scold you for breaking the
Sabbath or getting your feet wet, or forgetting to shut the gate. What
I want, Noah, is to get your opinion."

"It's funny about opinions," remarked Noah impersonally to the stars.
"Somebody is always gettin' your opinion just to see how big a fool you
are, and how smart they are."

"Noah Ezekiel Foster," the girl spoke reprovingly. "You know better
than that. You know I want your opinion because I think you know more
about cotton than I do."

"All right," said Noah, meekly. "Lead on. I got more opinions in my
head than Ben Davis' sheep used to have cockle burs in their wool."

"What do you think of the Red Butte Ranch?"

"It's a blamed fine ranch."

"Do you think Mr. Rogeen will make money on it?" She tried to sound
disinterested.

"That reminds me," replied Noah, "of Sam Scott. Sam went to Dixion and
started a pool hall under Ike Golberg's clothing store. After Sam got
it all fixed up with nice green-topped tables and white balls, and
places to spit between shots, he got me down there to look it over.

"'How does she look?' says Sam.

"'She looks all right,' I said.

"'I'm going to get rich,' declares Sam.

"'That all depends' I says, 'on one thing.'

"'What's that?' says Sam.

"'On whuther there is more money comes down them stairs than goes up.'"

Noah twisted his shoulders and again looked up impersonally at the
stars.

"You see makin' money is mighty simple. All you got to do is take in
more than you pay out. But the dickens of it is, losin' it is just as
simple--and a durned sight easier."

Imogene was smiling into the dusk, but her thoughts were on serious
matters.

"Well, which do you think Mr. Rogeen will do?"

Noah twisted his shoulders again, and shuffled his feet on the ground.

"I always hate to give a plumb out opinion--because it nearly always
ruins your reputation as a prophet. But Bob ain't nobody's fool. And
he's white from his heels to his eyeballs--everything except his liver."

Imogene laughed,