I find it very doubtful that Tecumseh would engage in a conversation with someone the likes of Mr. Smith, but just in case Mr. Smith decides to start playing rough, I am dropping by to warn Tecumseh that the weasel has been nosing around in our business.
“Ah, Mr. Smith,” Tecumseh snorts. “The man with a stone heart and a snake’s tongue. Yes, we have had the pleasure to meet.”
“So I have been informed,” I say. “What did the snake have to hiss about me and my dealings with the Bigfoot?”
“He asked me about you. Nothing was said about a Bigfoot.”
“I see. And what, may I ask, did he want to know about me?’