"I'll take my chances," I smiled, although he was irritating in the extreme. "It's four hunderd mile, an' twenty mile at a stretch withaout water. Most the water's pizen, too, from hyar to the mountings." "I'll have to drink what the rest drink, I suppose." "I 'laow the Injuns are like to get us. They're powerful bad in that thar desert. Ain't afeared o' Injuns, be yu?"

"I don't 'laow any man's goin' to, neither." Daniel reloaded his smoking revolver, bolstered it with a flip; faced me in turning away. "That's somethin' for yu to l'arn on, ag'in next time, young feller," he vouchsafed. If he would have eyed me down he did not succeed. His gaze shifted and he passed on, swaggering. "Come along, Edna," he bade. "We'll be goin' back."

Yet there it was his Colt's, out, cocked, wicked and yearning and ready. He whirled it with tempting carelessness, butt first, muzzle first, his discolored teeth set in a yellow grin. The breath of the spectators vented in a sigh. "Haow'll yu take it, Mister?" he gibed. "I could l'arn an old caow to beat yu on the draw. Aw, shucks! I 'laow yu'd better go back to yore pasteboards. Naow git!"

It's Bonnie Bravo on the trail." "All right, sir," said I. "Whichever you prefer." "I 'laow we pull out this arternoon," he volunteered farther. "I'm agreeable," I responded. "The sooner the better, where I'm concerned." "I saw all of Benton I wish to see," I granted. "You've been there?" "I won four bits, an' then yu bet I quit," he greedily proclaimed. "I was too smart for 'em.

"Good evenin' to yer, matey! This 'ers's Bill Jones and 'is pal. 'Ow, I'll tyke the 'ighroad, and you'll tyke the laow road! and I'll be in Scotland afore yer'.... 'Ere, Sammie, me lad, come along o' me an' warm yer witals. I could drink the sea strite I could!" He heard the man in the doorway laugh, and then he beckoned to him to come along.

Hadn't but one hole in it till yu all turned loose an' didn't give it no chance. Haw haw! I 'laow for a short bit I'd stand out in front o' that greenie from the States an' let him empty two guns at me." "S'pose you do it," friend Jenks promptly challenged. "By thunder, I'll hire ye with the ten cents, and give him four bits if he hits you." "He wouldn't draw on me, nohaow," scoffed Daniel.

Ladies and gentlemen, good-morning." Card shark and desperado that he was, his consummate aplomb nobody could deny, except Daniel, now capering and swaggering and twirling his revolver. "I showed him. I made him take water. I 'laow I'm 'bout the best man with a six-shooter in these hyar parts." "Ketch up and stretch out," Captain Adams ordered, disregarding. "We've no more time for foolery."

Yu're goin' to travel on to Zion 'long with me. I 'laow I'm man enough to look out for ye an' I got plenty room. The hull wagon's yourn. Guess thar won't nobody have anything to say ag'in that." His tone was pointed, unmistakable, and I sat fuming with it. My Lady drily acknowledged. "You are very kind, Daniel." "Wall, yu see I'm the best man on the draw in this hyar train. I'm a bad one, I am.

I 'laow yu're a greenie, ain't yu?" "In some ways I am, in some ways I'm not." "I 'laow yu aim to go through with this train to Salt Lake, do yu?" "That's the engagement I've made with Mr. Jenks." "Don't feel too smart, yoreself, in them new clothes?" "No. They're all I have. They won't be new long." "Yu bet they won't. Ain't afeared of peterin' aout on the way, be yu? I 'laow yu're sickly."

A devil or was it he himself? twitted me, incited me, and in a moment, with a gush of assertion, there I was, saying to her, my hat doffed: "I'll walk over with you." "Do," she responded readily. "We're to have more singing." The men stared, they nudged one another, grinned. Daniel whirled. "I 'laow yu ain't been invited, Mister." "If Mrs.