“Well, by golly!” he bawled suddenly, and brought his palm down with a terrific smack upon his sore leg—whereat his fellows laughed uproariously.
“We told you not to try to see through any more jokes till your leg gets well, Slim,” Andy reminded condescendingly.
“Say, by golly, that's a good one on Dunk, ain't it? Chasin' himself clean outa the country, by golly—scared plumb to death—-and you fellers was only jest makin' b'lieve yuh knowed him! By golly, that sure is a good one, all right!”
“You've got it; give you time enough and you could see through a barbed-wire fence,” patronized Andy, from the hammock. “Yes, since you mention it, I think myself it ain't so bad.”
“Aw-w shut up, out there, an' let a feller sleep!” came a querulous voice from within. “I'd ruther bed down with a corral full uh calves at weanin' time, than be anywheres within ten mile uh you darned, mouthy—” The rest was indistinguishable, but it did not matter. The Happy Family, save Slim, who stayed to look after the patient, tiptoed penitently off the porch and took themselves and their enthusiasm down to the bunk-house.
CHAPTER XVII. Good News
Pink rolled over in his bed so that he might look—however sleepily—upon his fellows, dressing more or less quietly in the cool dawn-hour.
“Say, I got a letter for you, Weary,” he yawned, stretching both arms above his head. “I opened it and read it; it was from Chip, so—”
“What did he have to say?”