coupla months, and the bank roll's punch drunk already. Why, I'd gamble you couldn't hit hard enough with that left right now to crack a vacant eggshell!"
The Kid presents me with a pleasant grin and commences lookin' around the room. Over in the corner is a long board which with a iron I have borreyed from our genial landlord for the sensational purpose of pressin' my suit. Still grinnin', the Kid picks it up, leans it at a angle against the wall, grabs a towel from the washstand, and makes a coupla turns of it around his left hand. Before I can jump across the room and grab him he has stood off and split that board in two with a punch!
"Now," he remarks, tossin' the towel on the bed and reachin' underneath for his suit case, "we have that all settled! You hustle down to the depot and find out what's the next train for New York. You might as well get the tickets and sleepers while you're there too."
"With what?" I asks, makin' him a gift of a sarcastical smile.
He swings around and looks at me kinda puzzled. "Why—ah—we have something like a hundred dollars, haven't we?" he says.
"Somethin' like it, sure!" I agrees, reachin' in a pocket and pullin' out a bill. "Here's us!" I says, showin' it to him. "This is somethin' like a hundred berries, only it's unfortunately got a ten on it in the corners instead of a hundred. Still, as you say, it's somethin' like a hundred—same color, same size, same—"
"Where's all the money you had last night when
