"I didn't think you would," he gave Jess a superior look. "Got any news?"
"Nope; an' I've come to say I'm ready to give up! My hound says thar ain't a smell of 'im 'tween heah an' hell."
"Then your hound lies; for I tell you he's around somewhere, an' not so very far off, either!"
"Look-ee-heah," the sheriff raised half up in his chair, "I don't 'llow no man to call my hound a liar!"
"Oh, sit down, Jess! Didn't I just tell you I know he's around somewhere?"
"Then what kind of a dawg might you be, Mister Dawson?"
But Dale either did not hear, or did not want to take this up. All he said was:
"Let's keep on trying, Jess!"
"Oh, all right, if yoh're so dod-gasted suah! Go on, then, an' watch tonight, an' I'll relieve you, same as usual, jest 'foh day!"
There was nothing more to be said, so the mountaineer turned back to the table, thus curtly dismissing the sheriff whose face flushed as he got up and went out.