"Well," he said, "now I've given you boys your message and told you what I know, and you've fixed me up, so I'll be movin' on. Where are those things I used to call shoes?"
We exchanged glances. He was the beaver man.
"We aren't through yet," I said.
"Oh, I reckon you are," he answered. "I'm much obliged. Pass me the shoes, will you?"
"No; wait," said Kit Carson.
"What for?" He was beginning to growl.
"Till you're all fixed."
"I'm fixed enough."
"We'll dress some of those wounds over again."
"No, you won't. Pass me those shoes."