I'm paying her
ten a week besides her board. That's good money for a squaw." He counted out
the amount in ten dollar bills and snapped a rubber band around them.
"Now here is the profit, boys, on your winter's work. Applehead comes in with
the use of his ranch and stock and wagons and so on. Here, pard--how does this
look to you?" His own pleasure in what he was doing warmed from Luck's voice
all the chill that Bill Holmes had sent into it. He smiled his contagious
smile and peeled off fifty dollar banknotes until Applehead's eyes popped.
"Oh, don't give me so dang much!" he gulped nervously when Luck had counted
out for him the amount he had jotted down opposite his name. "That there's
moren the hul dang ranch is worth if I was t' deed it over to yuh, Luck! I
ain't goin' to take--"
"You shut up," Luck commanded him affectionately. "That's yours--now, close
your face and let me get this thing wound up. Now--WILL you quit your arguing,
or shall I throw you out the window?"
"Well, now, I calc'late you'd have a right busy time throwin' ME out the
window," Applehead boasted, and backed into a corner to digest this
astonishing turn of events.
One by one, as their names stood upon his list, Luck called the boys forward
and with exaggerated deliberation peeled off fifty-dollar notes and
one-hundred-dollar notes to take their breath and speech from them.
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