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Updated: May 23, 2025
Well, not digressin' any, I run a-foul of a guy last week which was dead set on investin' in ten acres of my land, skirtin' one of the irrigation ditches which they're figgerin' on puttin' in. The price I wanted was a heap satisfyin' to the guy. But he suggests that before he forks over the coin we go down to the courthouse an' muss up the records to see if my title is clear.
"Now, not digressin' any," he went on as Trevison essayed to speak; "that ain't the worst of it. While I was in there, talkin' to Judge Lindman, this here big guy that you fit with Corrigan comes in. I gathers from the trend of his remarks that I never had a legal title to my land that it belongs to the guy which bought it from the Midland Company which is him.
Well, now, not digressin' any, I gits the idea that I'm goin' to unload consid'able of my thousand acres on the sufferin' fools that's yearnin' to come into this country an' work their heads off raisin' alfalfa an' hawgs, an' cabbages an' sons with Pick-a-dilly collars to be eddicated East an' come back home some day an' lift the mortgage from the old homestead which job they always falls down on findin' it more to their likin' to mortgage their souls to buy jew'l'ry for fast wimmin.
Well, not digressin' any, she ain't! She ain't even nowheres clear a-tall she ain't even there! She's wiped off, slick an' clean! There ain't a damned line to show that I ever bought my land from Dick Kessler, an' there ain't nothin' on no record to show that Dick Kessler ever owned it! What in hell do you think of that?
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