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Ah reckon Ah's gwine die, but Ah ain't yit not ef he's comin' back!" "Good boy, George! You're the stuff! But you're not going to die and he's not coming back. He lit out like a rabbit. Come now; we'll go to a doctor and then " "Reckon Ah can't do it. Got hit in de hip some'ers; makes mah leg total wuthless. You-all go on an' Ah'll git me some res' yere till mawnin'."
The Donna Anna an' the other is camped in the convent doorin' the visit. No, they're not locked up nor gyarded, an' the Donna Anna comes an' goes in an' out of that convent as free as birds. The nuns, too, bow before her like her own peonies. "'Thar's a Lootenant Jack Spencer with us; he hails from further up the Cumberland than me some'ers near Nashville.
"I fear, too, that he will be very ill for a long time. He was filled with the fever when he came here. Now, my sister and I have been talking it over " Flea rose half-hesitantly. "And ye wants me to take him some'ers else?" she questioned. Horace motioned again for her to be seated. "Sit down, child," said he; "you're quite wrong in your hasty guess. No, of course, you're not to go away.
'Fore ever he shows up on the Upper Hawgthief that time, this Black Feather gets nosepaint some'ers an' puts a whole quart of it away in the shade; an' he shore exhibits symptoms. Which for one thing he feels about four stories tall! "Stocton sets a trap for Black Feather.
Thar's a senile party who's packed his blankets into camp an' who's called 'Major Ben. The Major, so the whisper goes, used to be quartermaster over to Fort Craig or Fort Apache, or mebby now it's Fort Cummings or some'ers; an' he gets himse'f dismissed for makin' away with the bank-roll.
They tries to prove this Caribou Sam is a hoss-thief, but couldn't fill on the draw, an' so Caribou works free of 'em an' is what they calls "'quitted." "'As soon as ever the marshal takes the hobbles off this Caribou Sam he's been held a captif off some'ers an' is packed into Lido onder gyard to be tried a lot this yore malefactor comes bulgin' into the Sunflower an' declar's for fire-water.
Boggs, I don't want to be deemed insultin', but you-all oughter go to night-school some'ers ontil you learns the roodiments of the American language."
"See how you worry sister!" for Lucy was calling fretfully, "I do wish you two could be still one second! Tommy was asleep, and baby almost, when you began screeching like a fire engine and racing and slamming through the house where's pa, Nate?" "Pa? Oh, he he's around uptown some'ers." "I s'pose 'some'ers' means up to Lon's, as usual," snapped the girl bitterly.
Allers load your gun. Who is that sharp, Mister Peets, who says, "Be shore you're right, then go ahead"? He once ranches some'ers down on the Glorieta. But what he oughter say is: "Be shore your gun's loaded, then go ahead." "'That's whatever! says Dan Boggs, he'pin' himse'f an' startin' the bottle; 'an' if he has a lick of sense, that's what he would say.
"You see how it is," Racey indicated to the man on the ground. "It's the lady's dog. You can go now." The burly youth stared stupidly. "You heard what I said," Racey told him, impatiently. "G'on. Go some'ers else. Get outa here." "Say," remarked the burly youth in what was intended to be a menacing growl, "this party ain't over yet."
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