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I'm jes' tireder an' dryer 'n if I'd been tailin' down beef steers all day. My ol' tongue's been a-floppin' till thar ain't nary 'nother flop left in her 'nless I could git to ile her up with a swaller o' red-eye, an " regretfully "I reckon thar ain't no sort o' chanst o' that." "Thar ain't, hey?" replied Shang, producing a big jug from the brush near by.
Well, wot war the hupshot? W'y, Warrigal Half war hunloadin' hat Boottara; an' a yaller bullick 'e 'd got, Pilot by name" "Yes," I gently interposed. "Well, I'll have to be" "'Is Pilot starts by night f'm Boottara ration-paddick, an' does 'is thirty mile to hour 'oss-paddick; an' the hull menagerie tailin' harter. 'Shove 'em in 'e yaad, Toby, ses Muster Magomery.
"And who's this gumshoe guy from the bush league tailin' us? Breeze on and wise Annie if this here business is so important." Clay told his story. "Some of Jerry's strong-arm work," she commented. "Must be. Can you help me?" Annie looked straight at him, a humorous little quirk to her mouth. "Say, what're you askin' me to do t'row down my steady?"
"'Tailin' a gent's pony, says Todd, 'is no doubt thrillin' amoosement for folks lookin' on, but thar's nothin' of a redeemin' nature in it from the standp'int of the party whose pony's upheaved that a-way.
The three kept well together till they swung for home, then the white shirt began to bob up against the sky a second before the dark bodies of the other two showed. "Tailin' 'em off," muttered Old Mat. "Ain't 'alf tuckin' into it, Four-Pound ain't." Then Lollypop began to lag, and Jerry's arm was going. "Stopped him dead," said Silver. "And he's a good little two-mile hoss, too," replied Old Mat.
"Loaf an these people the night. A man thravellin' his lone, an' nat a shillin' in his pocket!" "O, go an' bark up a tree, you mongrel!" replied the war-material, with profusion of adjective. "Fat lot o' good tailin' you up! A man that sets down to his dinner without askin' another man whether he's got a mouth on him or not! Gerrout! you bin dragged up on the cheap!" "Come!
"That sorter ends the talk, an' all of us but the cook an' the hoss- hustlers bein' in the saddle by now, we disperses ourse'fs through the scenery to work the cattle an' proceed with the round-up we-alls is on. We notes, though, that tailin' Todd's pony don't go ag'in with safety.
Thar's a tenderfoot along whose name is Todd, an', as he's canterin' off, Jaybird comes a-curvin' up on his bronco an' reaches over an' tails this shorthorn's pony. "What's tailin' a pony? It's ridin' up from the r'ar an' takin' a half-hitch on your saddle. horn with the tail of another gent's pony, an' then spurrin' by an' swappin' ends with the whole outfit, -gent, hoss, an' all.
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