The Man from Bar-20
"Yo're a squaw's dog liar!" snapped Charley. "Eight-pound brook trout! You must 'a' snagged a turtle, or an old boot full of mud!"
"Bet you five dollars!" retorted Pop, bristling.
"How you goin' to prove it?" jeered Charley. "Call th' dead back to life to lie for you?"
"Reckon I can't prove it," regretted Pop. "But when a man hangs around with a liar he shore gets th' name, too."
"Nobody never called me a liar an' got off without a hidin'!" snapped Charley. "I may be sixty years old, but I can lick you an' yore whole fambly if you gets too smart!"
Pop drew rein, his chin whiskers bobbing up and down. "I'm older'n that myself; but I don't need no relations to help me lick you! Get off that hoss, if you dares!"
"Here! Here!" interposed Johnny. "What's th' use of you two old friends mussin' each other up? Come on! I'm in a hurry! I'm hungry!"
"I won't go a step till he says I ain't no liar!" snapped Charley.
"I won't go till he says I caught a eight-pound brook trout!"
"Mebby he did—how do I know what he did when he was a boy?" growled Charley, full of fight. "But I ain't no liar, an' that's flat!"
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