“If you can.”
“Wall, I kin.”
“Look here!” said Frank, sharply. “I want to know what sort of a chap you are. I can tell by your talk that you are not a greaser.”
The fellow laughed.
“In course I ain’t,” he replied. “But what of that?”
“Well, you must be a miserable wretch to mix up with them.”
“That’s nothin’ to you.”
“Of course not. Yet I would give one of my own countrymen credit for better sense than that.”
“Wall, I don’t ax any odds of you nor nobody else. Let go of my wrist or I’ll stick this knife atwixt yer ribs.”
“I have no idea of it.”