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Updated: April 30, 2025
Marmaduke was sitting on the fence. He wasn't thinking of anything in particular, just looking around. Jehosophat called to him from the barnyard, "Come'n an' play 'I spy." But Marmaduke only grumbled, "Don't want to." "Well, let's play 'Cross Tag' then," Jehosophat suggested. "Don't want to," repeated his brother again, not very politely.
'Mon, there's no end to some folk's pride, till they come'n to th' floor; an' then there isn't, sometimes. 'There isn't, Robert; there isn't. An' I'll tell tho what; thoose lasses o' theirs, they're as proud as Lucifer. They're donned more like mountebanks' foos, nor gradely folk, wi' their fither't hats, an' their fleawnces, an' their hoops, an' things.
Ride up to their camp an' say, 'We know wheah at theah's some bushwhackers, come'n see'?" Webb asked scornfully. "After this mornin' they won't even listen to a truce flag, I'm thinkin'." Croff nodded. "That's right." "Supposin' those sentries we passed back there were knocked out and two of us took their places and the other two then laid a trail leadin' here?"
Nickie growled his most terrible growl, and the stranger made some little show of surprise. "Vot is it der madder?" he said. "Blitzen, dot's a peaudiful winter overcoad vot you year mit der summer. Come'n haff er drink." He held the bottle towards Nickie the Kid. It was a bottle of square gin. All kinds of bottles were fascinating to Nickie. Mahdi faltered.
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