“Come, don’t git skeered, fer I ain’t goin’ ter shoot, only I hed ter kill a feller over that, just now, and I is loadin’ my gun ag’in.”
“You are very wise.”
“Yer see he insulted me.”
“I can hardly believe that possible.”
There were a number who heard this reply who appreciated its sarcasm. Pistols felt that there was a meaning in it he could not fathom, so he did not try, and said:
“Yes, he put water in my whisky.”
“Did he not know you?”
“Yaas, only he tried to play a underhand game on me. We has been mighty good friends, Shuffles and me, for he has twice saved my life, and he meant well toward me, I is sart’in, fearin’ I sh’u’d git too much, so he put water in my whisky, and I’d kill my brother fer a insult like that.”
“I can believe you; but may he not have been only wounded?”
“Yer don’t know me, pard, for I never wastes powder and lead, but shoots to kill. I is sorry my poor pard Shuffles committed suicide, for he should have know’d me well; but he’s out o’ misery now, and I’ll pay all ther expenses of ther funeral and give him a beautiful send-off on ther trail ter glory, an’ put up a stone over him with a inscription as a warnin’ to them who puts water in whisky, which I drinks ter git all o’ ther leetle devil out of it I kin. Does yer tumble?”