"'I'm a wolf––!'
"'We savvys all about you bein' a wolf. Also, I'm goin' to tie you to the windmill, as likely to exert a tamin' inflooence.'
"Moore conveys the Turner person to the windmill, an' ropes his two hands to one of its laigs.
"'Thar, Wolf,' he says, makin' shore the Turner person is fastened secoore, 'I shall leave you ontil, with every element of wildness abated, you-all begins to feel more like a domestic anamile.'
"From whar we-all are standin' in front of 202 the post office, we can see the Turner person roped to the windmill laig.
"'What do you reckon's wrong with that party?' asks Enright, sort o' gen'ral like; 'I don't take it he's actchooally locoed none.'
"Thar's half a dozen opinions on the p'int involved. Tutt su'gests that the Turner person's wits, not bein' cinched on any too tight by nacher in the beginnin', mebby slips their girths same as happens with a saddle. Cherokee inclines to a notion that whatever mental deeflections he betrays is born primar'ly of him stoppin' that week in Red Dog. Cherokee insists that sech a space in Red Dog shore ought to be s'fficient to give any sport, however firmly founded, a decisive slant.
"As ag'inst both the others, Boggs holds to the view that the onusual fitfulness observ'ble in the Turner person arises from a change of licker, an' urges that the sudden shift from the beverages of Red Dog, which last is indoobitably no more an' no less than liquid loonacy, to the Red Lights Old Jordan, is bound to confer a twist upon the straightest intellectyooals.
"'Which I knows a party,' says Boggs, 203 'who once immerses a ten-penny nail in a quart of Red Dog licker, an' at the end of the week he takes it out a corkscrew.'
"'Go an' get him, Jack,' says Enright, p'intin' to the Turner person; 'him bein' tied thar that a-way is an inhooman spectacle, an' if little Enright Peets should come teeterin' along an' see him, it'd have a tendency to harden the innocent child. Fetch him yere, an' let me question him.'