Vance. (Surprised.) Why, to be sure, plenty of them. (Looking.) What on earth has become of that skillet? I’m as hungry as a wolf.
Grouse. That’s like a man, he’d haf to eat if he died next minnit.
Vance. He’d die if he didn’t.
Grouse. Dyin’ with yer boots on aint so funny.
Vance. (Surprised.) Why, what do you mean, Miss Baker. You seem excited.
Grouse. (Laughs.) I aint the kind to git excited bad. (He looks inquiringly.) An’ ye don’t know any pertickler young lady?
Vance. (With serious tone.) Mollie, every man in his time has known some particular young lady. Sometimes she is too particular and sometimes not particular enough.
Grouse. I guess this un’s jist about right.
Vance. (Starting.) What do you mean, Mollie? Any lady in camp that knows me?
Grouse. (Laughing.) It ’pears so. She’s been hyur.