"
His companion swore and placed a bottle at the foreman's elbow, but
the latter shook his head. "Not this mornin'-I'll try one of them vile
cigars, however."
"Them cigars are th' very best that-" began the proprietor,
executing the order.
"Oh, heck!" exclaimed Buck with weary disgust . "Yu don't have to
palaver none: I shore knows all that by heart."
"Them cigars-" repeated the proprietor.
"Yas, yas; them cigars-I know all about them cigars. Yu gets them
for twenty dollars a thousand an' hypnotizes us into payin' yu a
hundred," replied the foreman, biting off the end `of his weed. Then
he stared moodily and frowned. "I wonder why it is?" He asked. "We
punchers like good stuff an' we pays good prices with good money. What
do we get? Why, cabbage leaves an' leather for our smokin' an' alcohol
an' extract for our drink. Now, up in Kansas City we goes to a
sumptious layout, pays less an' gets bang-up stuff. If yu smelled one
of them K. C. cigars yu'd shore have to ask what it was, an' as for
the liquor, why, yu'd think St. Peter asked yu to have one with him.
It's shore wrong somewhere."
"They have more trade in K. C.," suggested the proprietor.
"An' help, an' taxes, an' a license, an' rent, an' brass, cut glass,
mahogany an' French mirrors," countered the foreman.
"They have more trade," reiterated the man with the cigars.
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