Things are cooling down fast, up there, and you can walk the streets now without hanging onto your money with one hand and your gun with the other.

Jack and you can come back any time.

And say, Jack!" Having heard his voice beyond the vines, Bill made bold to call him somewhat peremptorily.
"There's some gold left, you know, that belongs to you.

I didn't send it all down; didn't like the looks of that--er--" He checked himself on the point of saying greaser.

"And seeing you're located down here for the summer, and don't need it, why don't you put it into lots?
You two can pick up a couple of lots that will grow into good money, one of these days.