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For several minutes the two stood glaring at each other with glittering eyes and gleaming teeth. "Rans Vane, I swore I'd git even with ye fur all you did agin' me and mine ten year ago. I reckin you're gittin' a leetle o' the sufferin " "Stop," hoarsely. "No I won't. I want ye ter know that I hain't forgot. I know'd you'n the gal came West arter the ole man died, but I didn't know whar.
He dropped the paper, and up and down the wide, empty porch he stumped on his short stout legs, shaking with the shock of revelation and with indignation and pity for the blind and bitter uselessness of it all. "Ah hah!" he said to himself over and over again understandingly. "Ah hah!" And then: "Next to a mean man, a mean woman is the meanest thing in this whole created world, I reckin.
And that was all I did spend till here three days ago when that there circus come to town. I reckin I did spend a right smart then. "My money had come frum the old country only the day before; so I went to the bank and they writ out one of them pieces of paper which is called a check, and I signed it with my mark; and they give me the money I wanted an even two hundred dollars.
"Jes so," screeched the capting. "What wessel's that air?" "Kickin Warier of Terry Hawt, and be darned to you!" "I, I, Sir!" hollered our capting. "Reef your arft hoss, splice your main jib-boom, and hail your chamber-maid! What's up in Terry Hawt?" "You know Bill Spikes?" said the capting of the Warier. "Wall, I reckin. He can eat more fride pork nor any man of his heft on the Wabash.
Their intention was evident. "But can they do this?" I inquired, doubting the possibility of our enemies being able to effect their purpose in that way; "can we not bear the smoke?" "Bar it! Yur green, young fellur. Do 'ee know what sort o' brush thur a-toatin' yander?" "No," said I; "what is it?" "It ur the stink-plant, then; an' the stinkinest plant 'ee ever smelt, I reckin.
See! they are driving long stakes into the ground, and stretching ropes from one to the other. For what purpose? We know too well. "Ha! look yonder!" mutters one of the hunters, as this is first noticed; "yonder goes the jerking-line! Now we're caged in airnest, I reckin." "Por todos santos, es verdad!"
"If we could only put him under down here," said a voice, which the reader will recognize as that of Nick Brower, the villainous accomplice of Professor Ruggles from the opening of our story. "Wal, I reckin we kin," said the villainous companion of Brower. As he spoke, he went to the side of the fallen man-hunter, and placed the point of a knife against his throat. "What now, pard?
"I don't know but whut you've got the proper notion about it after all." "Yes, suh. Them Gaffords have been purty nigh the only real true friends I ever had that I could count on." He hesitated a moment. "I reckin I reckin, suh, it'll be a right smart while, won't it, before that money gits here frum all the way acrost the ocean?" "Why, yes; I imagine it will.
I ain't ever heard o' any that could beat 'em, not even in Paul's tales. I reckin Dan'l Boone and Simon Kenton kin do things that them Carthaginians, Alexander an' Hannibal an' Cæsar an' Charley-mane, couldn't even get started on." "They certainly know some things that those men didn't." "More'n some. They know a pow'ful lot more.
"Did he do it to please her?" "Didn't mean drown himself to please her. He just meant to jump overboard and make everybody laugh." "I reckin they just died laughin' when he drowned." "Oh, I suppose they laughed a little," she admitted. "I imagine she did, anyway. She's pretty hard, I guess like I am." "You hard?" "Like nails." She yawned again and added, "Give me a little more from that bottle."
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