“‘Believe?’ says I. ‘Is there anything to dispute it? Have you happened to peroose anything in the way o’ discursive literatchure es would substantiate the impunity o’ a bitter denial?’
“‘I cyaint say es I have,’ says Chinook Bill.
“‘Well, then,’ says I, ‘it stands that Poaquita is a potent factor es regyards conjective research, an’ I’m the man es would re-continue that search with joyful alacrity.’
“Then Chinook Bill, the trustin’ child, rose up an’ voiced to the impassioned stars a like sentiment.
“‘Here’s the map an’ general directions’, says I, ‘an it’s left fer the valorous to finish a chapter in this splendid drama es was enacted under the opalescent skies o’ a new world.’
“So the next sun seen us pushin’ fer headquarters with them long horns, an’ with our resignations in our pockets.
“Ol’ Señor Mendez meets us ten mile off, demandin’ explanations abundant an’ sooperfulous forthwith.
“‘What’s this?’ says he, when I hands him the resignations, pompous.
“‘Them es read may run,’ quoths I sweetly.
“‘Then run, in the name of a goat, you Americanos sin verguenza! I keel you, dogs, beasts for bring here back my cattles to starve!’ Then he outs with a gun an’ begins to punctuate his wrath with methodic cracks at my boot heels.