“Didn’t mean to s-s-scare you, George,” says Mark. “But we wanted to see you p’tic’lar.”
“What on account of?” says George, nervous-like.
“On account of two things—a chunk of land and a hog.”
“Doggone that hawg!” says George. “I ’most wisht I hadn’t never heard of no hawg.”
“George,” says Mark, “hain’t you ’m-most tired of l-livin’ out here?”
“Better ’n where the sheriff ’u’d have me livin’,” says he. “’Tain’t so much jail,” he says, “but they might set me to some job that would bust me down. I hain’t robust. There hain’t many jobs of work I’ve got health to undertake.”
“You and your sister owns a p-piece of land across the river from t-t-town,” says Mark.
“Calc’late so. Why?”
“We want to buy it.”
“Huh! How much?”