He bathed his own
wound. And meanwhile Hardy was saying to Gilbert:
"Well, young feller, it's your move."
"His move!" "Red" repeated the phrase. "Say, you wouldn't go and skin him
out of the place all over again, would you?"
Hardy sneered. "I'm going to foreclose, certainly, if that's what you mean,
you impudent young scoundrel!"
"You mean you would trim him again?" "Red" didn't believe it.
"Say, boy, you better use your head. You're going to marry my darter, ain't
you?"
"Yes--I hope so," the foreman said.
"Well, don't you realize that all I got will eventually go to you and her?
Don't you?"
"It will?" asked the incredulous "Red."
"Certainly; when I die," answered Hardy.
"I hope it'll be soon!" cried out Uncle Henry. Then, to "Red," "Don't you
see he's leading you up to the top o' that gol darn mountain?"
"Red" did not understand. "Gol darn _what_?" he said.
Uncle Henry was exasperated at his stupidity. "Why, he's temptin' you, the
old devil! Don't let him. It's a gol darn shame," he added, turning his
chair so that he faced Hardy, "an old scoundrel like you tryin' to corrupt
a nice young feller like him! Don't you know money you get like that won't
do you no good?"
"It's his--Gilbert Jones's," cried "Red," "and I ain't goin' to be party to
robbin' him of it!"
"Hooray!" yelled Uncle Henry.
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