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Updated: May 20, 2025
By the Almighty Etarnal he won't say't twice." "Have you purchased it?" "Neer a mind for that, mister; I've made it: that's my style o' purchase, an', by God! it'll stan' good, I reck'n. Consarn yur skin! what hev you got to do wi't anyhow?" "This," I replied, still struggling to keep calm, at the same time taking the title-deeds from my saddle-bags "this only, Mr Holt.
"Noo, Mr Doo?" he said once more. "It's Annie Anderson's kist and a' her gear." "I'm surprised at ye, Jeames Doo. There's the lassie's room up the stair, fit for ony princess, whanever she likes to come back till't. "Ye lee, Rob Bruce," exclaimed Dow, surprised out of his proprieties. "Whaever ye say that till, dinna say't to me."
If that's the best she c'n do on cake I'd advise 'er to keep the next batch t' home where they're used to it. They say't 'What's one man's meat 's pizen t' the other feller, and I guess it's so enough. Maybe Mame an' the rest uh them Beckman kids can eat sech truck without comin' down in a bunch with gastakutus, but I'd hate t' tackle it myself." The Little Doctor gurgled.
"Ow! naething but a bit sang that I cam' upo' the ither day i' the neuk o' an auld newspaper." "Lat's hear't," said Peter. "Sing't, Rory. Ye're better kent for a guid sang than for settin' socks." "I canna sing 't, for I dinna ken the tune o' 't. I only got a glimp' o' 't, as I tell ye, in an auld news." "Weel, say't, than. Ye're as weel kent for a guid memory, as a guid sang."
"I ha'e the key my lord gae me to ilka place 'ithin the wa's excep' the strong room." "Give it me directly. I'm master here now." "'Deed, I s' du nae sic thing, sir. What he gae me I'll keep." "Give up that key, or I'll go at once and get a warrant against you for theft." "Weel, we s' refar't to Maister Soutar." "Damn your impudence 'at I sud say't! what has he to do with my affairs?
At last his road led by the side of a bog, and there was a poor ass up to his shoulders near a big bunch of grass he was striving to come at. "Ah, then, Jack asthore," says he, "help me out or I'll be drowned." "Never say't twice," says Jack, and he pitched in big stones and sods into the slob, till the ass got good ground under him.
The rest of 'em's just ordinary wild horses runnin' up an' down the sandhills of the San Luis. There's people't say he's a ghost horse. Fact! An' they say't he'll never stay caught. I don't know. It's certain't he's been caught three times, not countin' the times cow-punchers an' others has thought they'd caught him, but hadn't.
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