hornswoggled that, when two rank strangers made that sort of a ranikiboo
play at me, I talked it out with myself, like this--not out loud--just
me and Pete colloguing:

"'These gentlemen are pickin' on you, Pete. What's that for?' 'Why,'
says Pete, 'that's because you're Stan's pardner, of course. These two
laddie-bucks are some small part of the gang, bunch, or congregation
that's been preyin' on Stan.' 'What they tryin' to put over on Stan now?'
I asks, curiosity getting the better of my good manners. 'Not to pry into
private matters any,' says I, 'but this thing is getting personal. I can
feel malicious animal magnetism coursin' through every vein and leapin'
from crag to crag,' says I. 'A joke's a joke, and I can take a joke as
well as any man; but when I'm sick in my bed, and the undertaker comes to
my house and looks into my window and says, "Darlin'! I am waitin' for
thee!"--that's no joke. And if Stanley Mitchell's facetious friends begin
any hilarity with me I'll transact negotiations with 'em--sure! So I put
it up to you, Petey--square and aboveboard--what are they tryin' to work
on Stan now?'

"'To get his mine, you idjit!' says Pete. 'Now be reasonable,' says I.
'How'd they know we got any mine?' 'Didn't you tote a sample out of that
blisterin' old desert?' says Pete. 'We did,' I admits, 'just one little
chunk the size of a red apple--and it weighed near a couple of ton whilst
we was perishin' for water. But we stuck to it closer than a rich
brother-in-law,' says I. 'You been had!' jeers Pete. 'What kind of talk
is this? You caught that off o' Thorpe, over on the Malibu--you been
had! Talk United States! Do you mean I've been bunked?' I spoke up sharp;
but I was feelin' pretty sick, for I just remembered that we didn't
register that sample when we mailed it to the assayer.