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"Yo' 'll have to skuse Marse Harry seein' yo in bed, but his laig's pow'ful bad to-day, and he can't stand," said the servant reentering the room. "Skuse me, sah," he added in a dignified confidential whisper, half closing the door with his hand, "but if yo' wouldn't mind avoidin' 'xcitin' or controversical topics in yo' conversation, it would be de better fo' him."
Of such cover as there was he availed himself. From one sagebush to another he ran, head and body crouched low. His last halt was back of some greasewood a dozen yards from the ranger. "I'll get you into the willows if I can," he called in a sibilant whisper. "You bad hurt?" The wounded man turned. "My laig's busted two places. Plugged in the side too." Bob's heart sank.
It may change your notion a whole lot when I informs you that this yere is the only game in town," an' with that this reedic'lous Peg-laig hurries back to his seat. "'As I asserts former, it's no use me tryin' to make old Peg-laig stop when once he's started with them schemes of his, so I turns over my two hundred dollars, an' leans back to see whatever Peg- laig's goin' to a'complish next.
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