“You gasoline gents got t’ have a lesson,” I answers; “you let the stuff go t’ you’ haids. Why, a hired man ain’t got a chanst fer his life when you happen t’ be travellin’.”
He begun t’ wiggle his arms. “You lemme go,” he says.
“Go where?” I ast.
“T’ my machine.”
I looked over at her. She was quiet now, but sweatin’ oil somethin’ awful. “How long’ll it take you t’ git her on to her laigs?” I ast.
“She’s ruined!” he says, like he was goin’ to bawl. “And I meant t’ go down to Goldstone t’night.”
“That duck-wing lady’ll have t’ wait fer the train,” I says. “But never mind. I’ll tell Rose Andrews you got the engagement.” Then Maud slacked the rope and I rode up t’ him, so’s to let him loose. “So long,” I says.
“I ain’t done with you!” he answers, gittin’ purple; “I ain’t done with you!”
“Wal, you know where I live,” I says, and loped off, hummin’ the tune the ole cow died on.
When I rid up to the Bar Y ranch-house, here was Billy, gittin’ offen that little bicycle of hisn.