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Updated: May 3, 2025
"All right," said Billy Byrne, "youse you kin pitch in an' learn me wot whatever you want to an' I'll do me best to talk like a dude fer your sake."
His fingers opened and the blackjack dropped from his hand to the floor. "For the love o' Mike, who is this guy?" demanded one of the other men. "I'm the fifth member of our little party," explained Clay. "Wot t'ell do youse mean? And what's the big idea in most killin' the chief?" The man who had been flung across the table turned over and groaned.
Either y'ought to 'a' let this here hell-roarin' maverick alone or else you should 'a' put him clean out o' business when you had holt o' his shootin'-iron. An' I ain't a bit happy. And then jes' at this stage o' the proceedings occurs what youse 'ud call a diversion. "It seemed that that wood stump didn't go clean to the river as I first figured, but stuck three-fourths the way down.
When the big fisherman had secured enough compression to proceed, he boomed forth in a fog-horn voice: "Me and my fellers has decided to stick. Youse fellers can count on us if you shoot square. We's willin' to take a chanct." His sentences were interpolated with great gusts of surplus breath. As he finished speaking he lumbered away to rejoin his companions. "That's the stuff, boys.
Gallopin' t'rough dese bushes and briers, and gettin' a t'irst dat a brewery couldn't put out, and missin' meals! Say! You know what I'd do if I was main finger of dis bunch? I'd stick up a train. I'd blow de express car and make hard dollars where you guys get wind. Youse makes me tired. Dis sook-cow kind of cheap sport gives me a pain." Later on, a deputation waited on Bud.
"Only I t'ought I'd let youse know. I was passin' Moriarty's an' got de tip. Say, some guy's croaked Jake Metzer dere." "Aw, ferget it!" observed the Runt airily. "Dat's stale. Was wise to dat hours ago." Jimmie Dale's face fell. "But I just come from dere," he insisted; "an' de harness bulls only just found it out." "Mabbe," grunted the Runt. "But Metzer got his early in de afternoon see?"
Chames," protested Spike. "Dere was a goil, dough. Only I was never her steady. And she married one of de odder boys." "Why didn't you knock him down and carry her off?" "He was de lightweight champion of de woild." "That makes a difference, doesn't it? But away with melancholy, Spike! I'm feeling as if somebody had given me Broadway for a birthday present." "Youse to de good," agreed Spike.
To begin with, there ain't but you and your bunch and me and my bunch dat knows de Little Nugget's on dis side at all. Dey sneaked him out of New York mighty slick. And I heard that you had come here after him. So when I runs into a guy dat's trailin' de kid down here, well, who's it going to be if it ain't youse?
"I'm wise to wot youse an' dat guy was chinnin' about," he growled, "an' I'm right here to tell youse dat you don't wanta try an' put nothin' over on me, see? Youse ain't a-goin' to double-cross Billy Byrne. I gotta good notion to han' youse wot's comin' to you. If it hadn't been fer youse I wouldn't have been here now on dis Gawd-forsaken wreck. Youse is de cause of all de trouble.
"Here's yer downy," he said, with an attempt at jocularity. "Now you'd better hit de hay, fer youse must be dead fagged." "Thanks!" replied the girl. "I AM nearly dead." So tired was she that she was asleep almost as soon as she had found a comfortable position in the thick mat of grass, so that she gave no thought to the strange position in which circumstance had placed her.
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