bunch of runt mules--they'll have to go; but, of course, not for any mere
song."

Then I studied some more documents in a masterful manner and forgot my
caller entirely till at last he pussyfooted out, having caught sight of
Sandy down by the corral.

Pretty soon Sandy reports to me. He says Safety is hurt at my cold manner
to an old friend and neighbour that's always running in with a jar of
honey or some knickknack; and he had mentioned the runt mules, saying
he might be induced to consider 'em though I probably won't let 'em go
for any mere song, contemptible as they are. Sandy says he's right; that
it's got to be a whole opera with words and music for them mules. He says
I got a reason for acting firm about the price, the reason being that
this new line I'm going to embark in is such a sure thing that I want
only friends to come in, and I got to be convinced first that their heart
is in the right place.

Safety says his heart is always getting the best of his head in stock
deals, but just how foolish will I expect an old and tried friend to seem
about these scrub mules that nobody in his right mind would touch at any
price.

Sandy yawns like he was weary of it all and says a hundred dollars flat.
He said Safety just stood still and looked at him forever without batting
an eye, till he got rattled and said that mebbe ninety-five might be
considered. That's a trick with this old robber when a party's got
something to sell him. They tell their price and he just keeps still and
looks at 'em--not indignant nor astonished, not even interested, but
merely fishlike. Most people can't stand it long, it's that uncanny.