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"What?" said the man, unaware of the fact that Bostwick had purposely arranged this scheme for putting the altered sheet in Van Buren's hands. "What's that?" He glanced at the sheet in genuine surprise. "Keerect," he said. "I'll go and git you the letter." Van mounted his horse. His face had taken on a chiseled appearance, as if it had been cut in stone.
"You're p'intedly keerect," said Tim Price. "I got the sack four times, an' hed right smart mittens, afore I cotched a stayin' holt on my old woman." Shout after shout waked the mountain-echoes, as fish were held up in triumph, and as the boats glided over the smooth water of the eddy. Ahead was a mass of foam and a long dash of water down a shoal.
He ran his hand over Greenfield's belt and removed his pistol. "Sorry," he said curtly, standing up. "Quite keerect, Bub!" "Can I do anything for you?" "Nope." Suddenly, without warning, Greenfield raised himself, glared at him, stretched out his hands, and fell into a passionate fit of weeping. Frawley's English reserve was outraged. "What's the matter?" he said angrily.
I was desperate. It had to end one way or t'other. That's why I stuck to you until I thought it was over with you." "Why didn't you make sure of it?" said Frawley with curiosity; "you could have done for me there." Greenfield looked at him hard and nodded. "Keerect, Bub; quite so!" "Why didn't you?" "Why!" cried Greenfield angrily. "Ain't you ever had any imagination?
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