"Talk some more," says Curly, "then I won't be encouraging this wound by taking notice of it."
"Shall I lift you here to this dry corner?"
"No; it's sure fighting, moving. Leave me be."
"Curly, how did you get that scar above your eye?"
"Buck handed me that. He's shorely fretful at times. Who's Buck? Why, he's second in command of our gang. No, he's a sure man. I'm plenty fond of Buck."
"The brute! I'll wring his beastly neck! You love him?"
"Wouldn't you love all yo' brothers, Jim?"
"Oh, brothers—that's all right. But why did the rotten coward make that scar?"
"You see, Buck's plenty fond of me, and his emotions is r'aring high, specially when—wall, I refused to be Mrs. Buck. It sounded so funny that I had to laugh. Then he got bucking squealing crazy, and when he's feeling that a-way he throws knives, which it's careless of him."
"He wounded you with a knife? The cur!"