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Updated: May 28, 2025
Dave'll worry her down and git her if you don't go, and if he don't worry her down, he'll come back an' try to kill ye. I've always thought one of ye would have to die fer that gal, an' I want it to be Dave. You two have got to fight it out some day, and you mought as well meet him out thar as here. You didn't give that little gal a fair chance, John, an' I want you to go to June."
Dave'll tell everything he knows as soon as he gets hum, an' that'll bring the constable up here arter me. I must go furder back in the cane, but I won't go outen the settlement, an' nobody shan't drive me out nuther, till I get my hands onto them hundred an' fifty dollars. Then nobody won't ever hear of me ag'in Dan nor none of 'em.
"Purty stiff an' sore, boy my rheumatics is bad to-day." Pop winked solemnly. "I spoke to Dave about you wantin' a job, and I guess likely Dave'll put you on. They's plenty to do hayin' comin' on and all that." He lowered his voice mysteriously, though there was no man save Bud within a hundred feet of him. "Don't ye go 'n talk horses not yet. Don't let on like yore interested much.
That's the feller that's ousted Chet Timson, an' I'll bet ye the drinks on't. Name's Linx or Lenx, or somethin' like that. Dave told me." "So that's the feller, is it?" said Bill. "I guess he won't stay 'round here long. I guess you'll find he's a little too toney fer these parts, an' in pertic'ler fer Dave Harum. Dave'll make him feel 'bout as comf'table as a rooster in a pond.
"I'm glad mine is red," said Phronsie, at last, stopping in the wild jig, and going up to see if it was all safe, "cause then Santy'll know it's mine, won't he, Polly?" "Yes, dear," cried Polly, catching her up. "Oh, Phronsie! you are going to have a Christmas!" "Well, I wish," said Joel, "I had my name on mine! I know Dave'll get some of my things." "Oh, no, Joe," said Mrs.
"Smutty hands and cake!" exclaimed Mother Pepper. Joel was so busy cramming the cake into his mouth that he didn't half hear. "I'm most through," he mumbled. "Lay down your cake, and go and wash your face and hands at once, Joel," commanded Mrs. Pepper. "Dave'll eat it," said Joel, his mouth half full. "Oh, no, I won't," said little David, "and I'm going too, to wash mine."
"Guess Dave'll have to bring out Boise and take the swellin' outa that singin' kid's pocket," a hardfaced man shouted as Jeff slid off Skeeter and went over to where his cronies stood bunched and conferring earnestly together. "Not to-day, he needn't. I've had all the excitement I want; and I'd like to have time to count my money before I lose it," Bud retorted.
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