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Here you use up the best part of two days on a trip I could make in ten hours going slow and eating regular. Who is she, cowboy, who is she?" "What you talking about?" "What am I talking about, huh? I'd ask that, I would. Yeah, I would so. Is she pretty?" "Poor feller's got a hangover," Racey murmured in pity. "I kind o' thought it must be something like that when he began to talk so funny.
But everybody knew that the genial old colonel did considerable talking and blustering, but was harmless withal. Shea promised to remain awake the balance of the night. He even went to the house and armed himself with a big horse pistol that the colonel owned and which had many a story connected with its keeping company with the traveler in foreign lands. "Huh!
I just run across a lot of wriggling little snakes, about as long as lead pencils, and I'm seein' 'em twist and turn. It's just fun to watch the little beggars get mad." "Huh!" grunted Steve, as he turned his attention to what Max was doing; "some fellers get fun out of mighty little things, sometimes." A minute or so later they heard Bandy-legs laugh again.
Frisbie is safe at the Southern Hotel, all except a five-inch scalp wound from a brick that's got him down with a splitting headache. He's safe, so you're going with us, going to take us, I mean, up beyond Panuco town." "Huh? I can see myself," Peter retorted, wiping his greasy nose on a wad of greasy cotton waste. "I got some cold. Besides, this night-drivin' ain't good for my complexion."
"Huh! ain't you smart?" he grunted. If we had not been at just these odds on this lovely September evening, the incidents which follow might never have occurred. Out of this foolish beginning of a quarrel came a chain of circumstances which entirely changed the current of my life. Had I held my tongue I would have been saved much sorrow and peril, and many, many regrets.
"But what is puzzling me, Ham," I said, in conclusion, looking sideways into his shrewdly puckered face, "is what those Downes meant by hinting that there was something queer about father's death." "Huh!" grunted Ham. "What made that crazy Paul say he committed suicide, and that if he hadn't we'd have been paupers?" "Huh!" said Ham again.
Not that I wouldn't like to know how the Sam Hill the like of you ever got nabbed by the skypilots." "God called me through affliction, my son." "Oh," said my son, blankly. "Huh! But I bet you the best crib ever cracked you were some peach of a boy before you got that 'S.O.S." "I was, like the young, the thoughtless young, a sinner."
"We had n't seen each other in ten years not since I went up to Indianapolis to have my last talk with him. Did he get any cheerier before he went?" "No." "Just the same, huh? Always waiting?" "Afraid of every step on the veranda, of every knock at the door." Again the attorney stared out of the window. "And you?" "I?" Fairchild leaned forward in his chair. "I don't understand." "Are you afraid?"
"I'd been tipped off there was something up, on Simonides, where a good hustler could make himself plenty of credits. And credits in quantity is what I'm after ..." "What's that got to do with me, huh, what has it?" "... and I'm on my way there to see what my chances are of getting in on the game. So naturally I tried to learn all I could about it ahead of time.
"I'll get a string and a bent pin and fish for them," said Laddie confidently. "I fished that way in the brook at Pineville." "Huh!" said Frane Armatage, Junior, in scorn. "One of these fish here would swallow your pin and line and haul you in." "Oh!" gasped Vi, with big eyes. "What for?" "No, the fish wouldn't!" declared Laddie promptly. "Yes, it would. And swallow you, too."
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