Still looking at me, he reached back and took his billfold from his pocket, saying, “Let’s call that bet.”
Turning to Rubin, he said, “I’m going to let him call your bet, but now you listen.
If you boys take him up there to hunt the ghost coon, and jump on him and beat him up, you’re sure going to hear from me.
I don’t mean maybe. I’ll have both of you taken to Tahlequah and put in jail. You had better believe that.”
Rubin saw he had pushed my grandfather far enough.
Backing up a couple of steps, he said, “We’re not going to jump on him. All we want to do is make a bet.”
Grandpa handed me two one-dollar bills, saying to Rubin, “You hold your money and he can hold his. If you lose, you had better pay off.”
Looking back to me, he said, “Son, if you lose, pay off.”
I nodded my head. I asked Rubin when he wanted me to come up for the hunt.
He thought a minute. “You know where that old log slide comes out from the hills onto the road?” he asked.
I nodded. “We’ll meet you there tomorrow night about dark,” he said.
It was fine with me, I said, but I told him not to bring his hounds because mine wouldn’t hunt with other dogs.
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