"Well, I allus like a man that speaks his mind, even if he is a liar," commented the mysterious voice. "D—n these flies! I crawled in here to get rid of 'em; but they come right along. An' a little while back I smelled a striped kitty-cat. I knowed what it was because th' wind wasn't blowin' from yore direction."
"Cuss his impudence!" said Luke. "He takes me for a wild flower! A rose, mebby. An' me comin' out here to save his worthless life!"
"You didn't do nothin' of th' kind," contradicted the sepulchral voice. "You come out here to practice with Colonel Bowie! I can prove it before any fool jury. D—n th' flies!"
"What flies?" innocently demanded Luke, his voice suggesting a hot curiosity and a thirsty yearning for knowledge.
"Time," said the other. "Time flies; an' I've had these flies all th' time. It's time they flies away, to fly back another day. You leave yours behind you, Cow Face, if you visit me."
"Ain't got none; an' ain't seen none," replied Luke cheerfully.
"Twice a liar," observed Johnny pleasantly. "Why don't you learn to speak th' truth sometimes? I'm worried about yore soul."
"I'm worried about my belly an' my knees. They're scraped clean, wrigglin' over rock."
"'Tain't possible; not at yore age," commented Johnny. "Th' accumulations of years can't be got rid of so easy, Old Timer."
"No wonder they chased him off th' Tin Cup," grinned Luke. "We are two ijuts."