"But I stopped ag'in, mighty sudden, though 'twa'n't a turkey I see'd. It was a man kinder strollin' along, fer his health, I reckon, an' he pulled up too. Thar we stud, a-gawpin' at each other like looneys, when he spluttered out sunkthin' thet kinder smelled o' brimstone, and then took to his heels like the devil was arter him.
"An' ef he wasn't, I was, 'cause I never yet see'd a feller thet run 'thout takin' arter 'im jest like blazes. It's a kinder 'farmity like, I reckon; anyhow it's a fact. Wal, he put an I put, jest a-scratchin' dirt an' a-kickin' up the leaves the beatinest kind you ever did hyar tell on.
"I'm purty hefty on the run, as ye know, but blamed ef he wasn't mighty nigh my master. But I'd never say die tell the bellers clean bu'sted, an' at last he jumped for kiver, a-swingin' his shooter mighty keerless like. I did ditto, an' thar we war. I sorter grinned, 'cause it 'minded me of ol' times when ha'r went wild.
"But then I peeked out, mighty keerful like, 'cause I didn't want another hole in my brush-patch overly much, when I hope I may never see the back o' my neck, ef thar he wasn't a-streakin' it through the woods, his coat tails a-streamin' out wuss'n the tag eend to a comet. Lord, wasn't I gritty then? Mebbe not!
"I jest set my grinders like a clamp, pulled the slouch furder on my head an' then set ol' toad-smashers to work. The ground jest fa'rly smoked about me, I run so fast, and I overhauled ol' smarty like fun. He pecked 'round an' see'd it, then whirled 'round to'rds me, yellin' out he'd shoot fer shore.
"But my Ebenezer was up like a mice, an' I kept on, wild fer bitin' an' gougin'. The dratted imp did shoot shore enough, but it jest clipped my ha'r a leetle, an' then I downed him. I was mad at the feller's impedence in burnin' powder when I was jest in fun, all the time, an' drawed my knife to finish up the job.
"I had her raised all ready, when I caught his eye, an' helt my han'. I knowed him in a minute, though he'd changed a heap sence we met last. I knowed how tickled the ol' man 'uld be, ef he see'd him, 'cause he kinder 'lowed he kicked the bucket long ago.
"But thar he was, an' I 'tarmined to fotch him inter camp. So I started, but the bugger tried to run onc't or twic't, an' so I thought I'd see how he'd work in a single gear. He cut up rusty a leetle, an' n'arly nipped off my thumb, the onmannerly brute; but when I once got him fa'rly bitted he done purty well, barrin' the kickin' an' stumblin'," concluded Fyffe, with a long-drawn yawn.
"It'll turn out the best day's work you ever done, Fyffe," said Crees, extending his hand.
"And I will not forget it very soon, either, old fellow," warmly added Poynter.