“Oh! But maybe he come frum thar.”
“Maype he dit. I am nodt knowing. As soon as I see him I losdt him ag’in.”
“Wow!”
“I am nodt an Inchun drailer, but I sday me righdt dhere undil I gan see his dracks py der daylighdts. So, I voller him. Afdher a vhiles I see him making a gache.”
“A gash!”
“No; a hole in der groundt vot he iss putting goldt nuggedts in. He haf der goldt nuggedts in puckskin pags; unt in der hole he puries dhem. Yaw!”
“Waal, go on, Schnitz! Et’s plum more irritatin’ than moskeeter bites ter lissen to you—you’re so slow.”
“Vhen he iss gone avay, I grawl oop py der gache, to dake a loogks. Unt dhen——”
“Yes, go on! An’ then!”