“Well, ma’am,” began Bud, clearing his throat, glancing around uneasily to be sure that the crowd was giving him moral backing, and feeling uncomfortable, “we was just getting up a–a––”
“B, C, D,” prompted Jim in a whisper.
“We was just getting up a resolution of thanks, Mrs. Shields,” he continued, stabbing his elbow into the stomach of the offending Jim. “You shut up!” he fiercely whispered. “I’m carrying one hundred and forty pounds now without the saddle!” Then he continued: “We all of us are plumb tickled about this, so plumb tickled we don’t hardly know what to say––”
“That’s right,” whispered Jim, folding his arms across his stomach. “You’re proving it, all right.”
Silent and Jack hauled Jim to the rear and Bud continued unruffled: “But we want to thank you, ma’am, from the bottoms, the very lowest bottoms of our hearts for your kindness to a orphant outfit what ain’t had anything to eat since the war, and very little during it. Joe Haines, here, ma’am, was just saying as how he was a-scared that it is all a dream––”
“I didn’t neither!” fiercely contradicted Joe in a whisper, looking very self-conscious. He was whisked to the rear to join Jim and the speech went on.
“He is afraid it is a dream, ma’am, and I know we all of us have more or less doubts about it being really true. But, ma’am, we shore are anxious to find out all about it. We’ve rid thirty miles to see for ourselves, and I don’t reckon you’ll have any fears about our appetites being left at home when you sizes up the wreck left in the path of the storm after the stampede is over. The boys want to give you three cheers even if it is Sunday, ma’am, for your kindness to them, and I’m shore one of the boys!”
“Hip, hip, horray!” yelled the crowd, surging forward.
“Good boy, Bud!” they cried.
“I’m proud of you, Buddie!” exulted Charley, slapping him extra heartily on the back.