Nocturnal Activities
snarled a hostile voice from the same bench. "Yo're as big a nuisance as a frisky bummer in a night herd!"
"A bull's eye for Mr. Harrison," chanted the man inside.
"You two buzzards are about as cheerful an' pleasant as a rattler in August," snapped Gates belligerently. "Like two old wimmin, you are, both of you! Settin' around in everybody's way, tellin' yore troubles over an' over again till everybody wishes Nelson had done a better job. How'd I know you was sprawled out, takin' up all th' room? You reminds me of a fool dog that sets around stickin' its tail in everybody's way, an' then howls blue murder when it's stepped on. Think yo're th' only people on this ranch that has any troubles?"
"A miss for Mr. Gates," said the irritated voice within the house. "An' if he will stick his infected head in that door, just for one, two, three, he'll have more troubles," prophesied Mr. Fleming, facing the opening with a boot nicely balanced in his upraised hand. "If it wasn't for him, we—"
"Shut up! Shut up!" yelled Gates, enraged in an instant. "If you says that much more I'll bust yore fool neck! For G—d's sake, is that all you know, Andrew Jackson?"
"If it wasn't for you," said the man on the bench very deliberately as his hand closed over a piece of fire-
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