One thing in Wes's favor allus wuz the feller's temper.—Nothin' 'peared to aggervate Wes, and nothin' on earth could break his slow and lazy way o' takin' his own time fer ever'thing. You jest couldn't crowd Wes er git him rattled anyway.—Jest 'peared to have one fixed principle, and that wuz to take plenty o' time, and never make no move 'ithout a-ciphern'n' ahead on the prob'ble consequences, don't you understand! "Be shore you're right," Wes 'ud say, a-lettin' up fer a second on that low and sorry-like little wind-through-the-keyhole whistle o' his, and a-nosin' out a place whur he could swap one man fer two.—"Be shore you're right"—and somep'n' after this style wuz Wes's way: "Be shore you're right"—(whistling a long, lonesome bar of "Barbara Allen")—"and then"—(another long, retarded bar)—"go ahead!"—and by the time the feller 'ud git through with his whistlin', and a-stoppin' and a-startin' in ag'in, he'd be about three men ahead to your one. And then he'd jest go on with his whistlin' 'sef nothin' had happened, and mebby you a-jest a-rearin' and a-callin' him all the mean, outlandish, ornry names 'at you could lay tongue to.
But Wes's good nature, I reckon, was the thing 'at he'ped him out as much as any other p'ints the feller had. And Wes 'ud allus win, in the long run!—I don't keer who played ag'inst him! It was on'y a question o' time with Wes o' waxin' it to the best of 'em. Lots o' players has tackled Wes, and right at the start 'ud mebby give him trouble,—but in the long run, now mind ye—in the long run, no mortal man, I reckon, had any business o' rubbin' knees with Wes Cotterl under no airthly checker-board in all this vale o' tears!
I mind onc't th' come along a high-toned feller from in around In'i'nop'lus somers.—Wuz a lawyer, er some p'fessional kind o' man. Had a big yaller, luther-kivvered book under his arm, and a bunch o' these-'ere big envelop's and a lot o' suppeenies stickin' out o' his breastpocket. Mighty slick-lookin' feller he wuz; wore a stovepipe hat, sorto' set 'way back on his head—so's to show off his Giner'l Jackson forr'ed, don't you know! Well-sir, this feller struck the place, on some business er other, and then missed the hack 'at ort to 'a' tuk him out o' here sooner'n it did take him out!—And whilse he wuz a-loafin' round, sorto' lonesome—like a feller allus is in a strange place, you know—he kindo' drapped in on our crowd at the Shoe-Shop, ostenchably to git a boot-strop stitched on, but I knowed, the minute he set foot in the door, 'at that feller wanted comp'ny wuss'n cobblin'.
Well, as good luck would have it, there set Wes, as usual, with the checker-board in his lap, a-playin' all by hisse'f, and a-whistlin' so low and solem'-like and sad it railly made the crowd seem like a religious getherun' o' some kind er other, we wuz all so quiet and still-like, as the man come in.
Well, the stranger stated his business, set down, tuk off his boot, and set there nussin' his foot and talkin' weather fer ten minutes, I reckon, 'fore he ever 'peared to notice Wes at all. We wuz all back'ard, anyhow, 'bout talkin' much; besides, we knowed, long afore he come in, all about how hot the weather wuz, and the pore chance there wuz o' rain, and all that; and so the subject had purty well died out, when jest then the feller's eyes struck Wes and the checker-board,—and I'll never fergit the warm, salvation smile 'at flashed over him at the promisin' discovery. "What!" says he, a-grinnin' like a' angel and a-edgin' his cheer to'rds Wes, "have we a checker-board and checkers here?"
"We hev," says I, knowin' 'at Wes wouldn't let go o' that whistle long enough to answer—more'n to mebby nod his head.
"And who is your best player?" says the feller, kindo' pitiful-like, with another inquirin' look at Wes.
"Him," says I, a-pokin' Wes with a peg-float. But Wes on'y spit kindo' absent-like, and went on with his whistlin'.
"Much of a player, is he?" says the feller, with a sorto' doubtful smile at Wes ag'in.
"Plays a purty good hick'ry," says I, a-pokin' Wes ag'in. "Wes," says I, "here's a gentleman 'at 'ud mebby like to take a hand with you there, and give you a few idys," says I.