From a window of the bunkhouse Barney Owen watched them, a pleased smile on his face.
"It's yours," Sanderson told the girl.

"An' we ain't trustin' _that_ to any bank.

Look what they did with the seven thousand I've got in the Lazette bank.

They've tied it up so nobody will be able to touch it until half the lawyers in the county have had a chance to gas about it.

An' by that time there won't be a two-bit piece left to argue over.