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Updated: May 12, 2025
The old man loosened his hold of Holmes's arm, looked up and down the street, uncertain, disappointed. "The law. Yes. That's right! Yoh're just man, Stephen Holmes." "And yet?" "Yes. I dun'no'. Law's right, but Yare's had a bad chance, an' he's tryin'. An' we're sendin' him to hell. Somethin' 's wrong. But I think yoh're a just man," looking keenly in Holmes's face.
"Dun'no'," replied Buzzby, with an equally blank look of despair; as he stood with his legs apart and his arms hanging down by his side the very personification of imbecility. "If I wos a fly I'd know wot to do. I'd walk up the side o' that cliff till I got to a dry bit, and then I'd stick on. But, not bein' a fly, in coorse I can't."
It makes me powerful oneasy whenever I know ye air all drunk an' a-gallopadin' down hyar, an' no mo' able to act reasonable in case o' need an' purtect yersefs agin spies an' revenuers an' sech 'n nuthin' in this worl'. The las' raid, ye 'member, we hed the still over yander;" he jerked his thumb in the direction present to his thoughts, but unseen by his coadjutors; "a man war wounded, an' we dun'no' but what killed in the scuffle, an' it mought be a hang-in' matter ter git caught now.
In the mornin' you'll have to take the horse an' go over to the West Corners, an' tell Amelia an' her mother an' Lyddy Stokes's folks. There won't be any time to send word to the Greens over in Westbrook. They're only second-cousins anyway, an' they 'ain't got any horse, an' I dun'no' as they'd think they could afford to hire one.
This did not seem to be a moment for letting her husband get into the full swing of them. She begged: "What will you do if they let you out? I wish there was something I could do to help." "Dun'no'. There's a pretty close agreement between a lot of the leading paint-and-varnish people gentleman's agreement and it's pretty hard to get in any place if you're in Dutch with any of the others.
Suddenly Mrs. Green stopped and laid a heavy hand on Mrs. Field's arm. "Look here, Mis' Field, I dun'no' as you'll thank me for it, but I'm goin' to speak real plain to you, the way I'd thank anybody to if 'twas my Jenny. I'm dreadful afraid you don't realize how bad Lois is, Mis' Field." "Mebbe I don't." Mrs. Field's voice sounded hard.
Ye oughter keep sober; an' ye know, Isham, ye oughter keep Hil'ry sober. I dun'no' why ye can't. I never could abide the nasty stuff it's enough ter turn a bullfrog's stomach. Whiskey is good ter sell not ter drink. Let them consarned idjits in the flat woods buy it, an' drink it. Whiskey is good ter sell not ter drink."
"That's it, go ahead!" said Haight. "Houston," continued Maverick, with an oath and applying a vile epithet, "is too all-fired smart to notice anybody, and Jack's another, so they'd be likely to hitch." "That's right," said Haight, "now what object would he be likely to have in getting information from Jack?" "I dun'no," said the other, "unless mebbe he's paid by somebody on the outside."
"I dun'no' whether I be a-goin' ter need this hyar consarn whilst milkin' or no," she observed, half to herself, half to Emory, who, chewing a straw, somewhat surlily had followed her out for a word apart.
They had waited, staying to tea and letting the horse rest, until the full moon arose. "Yes, I did," said Imogen, "but Ann was just like her at her age. That silk is well enough, but it ain't no such quality as my blue an' yellow changeable one." "Well, I dun'no' as it is. I dun'no' as it's as good as my figured brown one."
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