"Well, here I am, after all!"
Frank grinned in return. "If I could put through a few more stunts
like this, you'd look almost like a boy, instead of a potato sprout.
Get down and limber up."
Nucky half scrambled, half fell off his mule. "Must be spring down
here," he cried, staring about at grass and cottonwood.
"Just about. And it'll be summer when we reach the river."
"That was some trail, wasn't it, Frank! Do many kids take it?"
"Lots of 'em, but only with guides, and you were the worst case of
scared boy I've ever seen."
Nucky flushed. "Well, you might give me credit for hanging to it, even
if I was scared."
"I'll give you a lot of credit for that, old man. But if the average
New York boy has nerves like yours, I'm glad many of them don't come to
the Canyon, that's all. Your nerves would disgrace a girl."
"The guys I gamble with never complained of my lack of nerves," cried
Nucky, angrily.
"Gambling! Thunder! What nerve does it take to stack the cards
against a dub? But this country out here, let me tell you, it takes a
man to stand up to it."
"And I've been through police raids too, and never squealed and I know
two gunmen and they say I'm as hard as steel."
"They should have seen you with your arms around Spoons' neck, back up
the trail there," said Allen dryly.
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