A fur cap was pulled down
over his ears, while across his left shoulder and fastened around his body
several times was a new half-inch rope.
"Hello, Pete," Stephen exclaimed, "You look cold. Come to the stove and
get warm."
"Y'bet I'm cold," was the reply. "My fingers and nose are most froze."
"What's brought you away out here this time of the night?" questioned
Stephen, "I thought you liked the store too well to travel this far from
the fire."
"Bizness, Steve, bizness," and the man rubbed his hands together, at the
same time taking a good survey of the cabin.
"You look as if you were going to hang yourself, Pete, with all that rope
about your body. Surely you're not tired of living yet."
"No, no, Steve. Not on your life. There'd be no fun in that, an' it's fun
I'm after this time."
"But I thought you said you were out on business, and now you say it's
fun."
"Bizness an' fun, me boy. Bizness an' fun; that's my motto. My bizness
this time is to pinch the Stickles' cow, an' the fun 'ill be to hear
Stickles, Mrs. Stickles an' the little Stickles squeal. Ha, ha! Bizness
an' fun, Steve.
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