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Dextry inquired when he had finished. "Of course. Didn't the detective warn me to-day?" Dextry shook his head. "It don't seem like the game is that far along yet. The time is coming when we'll go to the mat with them people, but they've got the aige on us now, so what could they gain by putting you away? I don't believe it's them, but whoever it is, you'd better be careful or you'll be got."
Peter wished to make his mother personally acquainted with the Red Admiral, so he printed on the back of his picture: My buterfly done for mother's burthday by her loveing son Peter Champneys the 11th Year of his Aige.
I was shorely born with a yearnin' for the level ground. An' so Grief moves his camp down on the river bottoms, where thar ain't no hills. "He's that mis'rable idle an' shiftless, this yere Grief is, that once he starts huntin' an' then decides he won't. Grief lays down by the aige of the branch, with his moccasins towards the water.
As Dan sinks back speechless an' played from Peet's shot, the Colonel, who bein' eddicated like Peets to a feather aige is ondismayed an' cool, comes to the rescoo. "'That law proverb you quotes, Doc, says the Colonel, 'is dead c'rrect, an' if argyment was to pitch its last camp thar, your deductions that this benighted Bowlaigs must swing, would be ondeniable.
"Which matters goes on good enough ontil mebby it's the eighth time I'm thar. I remembers the night all perfect. Me an' the girl sets up awhile, an' then I quits her an' turns in. I gets to sleep a-layin' along the aige of the bed, aimin' to keep 'way from the old man, who's snorln' an' thrashin' 'round an' takin' on over in the middle.
Hun'erds ob times he say, 'Chunk, we go back some day, sho! But he do he duty brabe. I go wid 'im ev'ywhar en onst, des on de aige ob night, he wuz ridin' long wid 'bout twenty ob he men en dis ting happen. We didn't tink any Rebs roun' en I'd been kep' back tryn' ter git a chicken fer mars'r's supper. Ez I riz a hill, ridin' right smart I see our folks goin' easy en car'less inter a woods.
"This Wilkins lives in a wickeyup out on the aige of the town, an' a girl, which she's his daughter, about 19 years old, keeps camp for him. No one knows her well. She stays on her reservation mighty close, an' never seems visible much. I notices her in the New York Store once, buyin' some salt hoss, an'she ain't no dream of loveliness neither as to looks.
"Once, about two miles off, when I'm on the Staked Plains, an' near the aige where thar's pieces of broken rock, I observes a Mexican on foot, frantically chunkin' up somethin'. He's left his pony standin' off a little, an' has with him a mighty noisy form of some low kind of mongrel dog, this latter standin' in to worry whatever it is the Mexican's chunkin' at, that a-way.
"I mosies over to where he's settin'. He puts the wire in his pocket when he sees me comin'. I sets down beside him 'n' goes to readin' the paper. Pretty soon I folds up the paper 'n' looks at the board. "'That Tea Kettle might come through, I says to the ole nigger. "'Dat ain' likely, he says. 'He ain' won fo' a coon's aige.
"Mebby it's four days after when this yere Sal hops outen the stage, an' for the next week thar ain't no washin' done whatever, while Benson Annie an' Sal works the wire aige offen their visit. "`A gent as would begretch two pore, hard-workin' girls a lay-off of a week, says Enright, 'ain't clean strain, an' I don't want to know sech a hoss-thief nohow'; an' we-alls feels likewise.
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