“They used to all go out in the field and leave Pecos Bill in the cabin by his self. One day when Bill was about three years old, the Ole Man was ploughin’ and jest as he turned the Ole Woman and the kid he had hitched up with her around to start a new row, the Ole Woman begun yellin’ and tryin’ to get out of the harness.
“‘What’s eatin’ on you, Ole Woman?’ says the Ole Man. ‘I never seen you do like this before. Must have a tick in your ear.’
“The Ole Woman yelled that she seen a panther go in the cabin where Bill was.
“The Ole Man told her not to git excited. ‘It’s a half hour by sun till dinner time yet,’ he says, ‘and that dang panther needn’t expect no help from me nohow. The fool critter ought to of had more sense than to go in there. He’ll jest have to make out the best way he can.’
“So they ploughed on till dinner time, and when they come back to the cabin, there was Pecos Bill a-chewin’ on a piece of raw panther flank.
“They lived there another year or two before the Ole Man taken a notion to leave.”
“I reckon you know how he come to git the idear in his head, don’t you, Joe?” said Red.
“I’ll bite,” said Joe. “Go ahead.”
“Why, this ain’t no sell,” said Red. “I’ve heard Windy Williams tell it a hundred times.
“One time the Ole Man had the Ole Woman and one of the big kids hitched up to the plough in his customary and habitual manner, jist as Joe has been tellin’ about, and all at once here comes a piece of paper blowin’ across the field. The Ole Woman shied a little bit off to one side; then the kid got to prancin’, and then they tore loose and went lickity-split, rearin’ and tearin’ across that corn patch, draggin’ the Ole Man with ’em. The Ole Man stumped his toe on a root, and then they got loose from him and tore up the Georgie-stock. After while they quieted down, and the Ole Man got up and fetched ’em in. Then he went out and picked up the piece of paper where it was hung on a stump. He seen it was an old newspaper. That set him to wonderin’.