“The cows will have to get used to seeing this automobile, Lem Dickson,” snapped the ranchman’s niece, who had been speaking with Sally. “For uncle’s bought it and it beats riding a cayuse, I tell you!”
“By gollies!” grunted Bill Hicks, “it bucks wuss’n any critter I ever was astride of.” But he spoke softly, and nobody but the storekeeper noticed what he said.
“Mean to say you’ve bought this old chuck-waggin from Doosenberry?” demanded the storekeeper.
“Uh-huh,” nodded Mr. Hicks.
“Wal, you’re gittin’ foolish-like in your old age, Bill,” declared his friend.
“No I ain’t; I’m gittin’ wise,” retorted the ranchman, with a wide grin.
“How’s that?”
“I’m l’arnin’ how to git along with Jane Ann,” declared Mr. Hicks, with a delighted chortle, and pinching the freckled girl beside him.
“Ouch!” exclaimed his niece. “What’s the matter, Uncle Bill?”
“He says he’s bought this contraption to please you, Jane Ann,” said the storekeeper. “But what’ll Old Trouble-Maker do when he sees it—heh?”