“‘This is a shame,’ says Chinook Bill, ‘an’ a arful breach o’ ediket,’ an’ he prompt starts in to retaliate; then I picks up courage an’ adds my relay o’ lead an’ fluent invective.
“Ol’ José Mendez sets up a howl, an’ says:
“‘How much I owe you Americanos?’
“‘Three months apiece,’ says I, ‘which is two hundred an’ forty dol’ fer the two o’ us, an’ mighty quick.’
“‘Caramba!’ says he, ‘I pay you, then you skeep inmediatamente.’
“‘We’re arful obliged,’ says I, sarcastic. Then we mounts an’ makes trail fer Carbola, which was situate about forty miles away, due south. We hit terra firma only where elevation was considerable an’ generally porphyry rock, an’ rode into that little unsanctified hamlet in a hooricane cloud o’ dust.
“‘Whew!’ says I, ‘a golden sunset an’ sich a ’ristocratic quietoode! One would natcherally concloode they was arful stuck-up.’
“‘Maybe they don’t happen to remember us,’ says Chinook Bill, ominous an’ his feelin’s hurt.
“‘It sure is a insult,’ says I.