The Sheriff's Son
dare n't shoot with me loafing there across the road. You kinder disarranged their plans some more by dropping in at their back door. Looks like you'd 'a' rumpled up their hair a few if you had n't been in such a hurry to make a get-away. Which brings us back to the previous question. The unanimous sense of the meeting is that you come through with some information, Dave. Where is that gunnysack?"
Dave, still sitting on the ground, leaned his back against a tree and grinned amiably at his questioner. "Sounds like you-all been to school to a parrot. You must 'a' quituated after you learned one sentence."
"We 're waiting for an answer, Dave."
The cool, steady eyes of Dingwell met the imperious ones of the other man in a long even gaze. "Nothing doing, Hal."
"Even split, Dave. Fifty-fifty."
The sitting man shook his head. "I 'll split the reward with you when I get it. The sack goes back to the express company."
"We 'll see about that." Rutherford turned to his son and gave brisk orders. "Bring up the horses. We 'll get out of here. You ride with me, Jeff. We 'll take care of Dingwell. The rest of you scatter. We're going back to the park."
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