“‘Well, all right,’ says Chinook Bill, meek. ‘I shore do feel like I swallowed a horned toad frog with a hoss collar adornin’ his neck. I’m a sick man haunted by turrible hallucinations. But it ain’t the fire water, Pete, er cowardice. Maybe it’s the curse that visits the avaricious. I’m sore perplexed,’ an’ Chinook Bill taps his forehead sorrowful.
“‘You been readin’ that forbidden book too much,’ says I.
“‘It’s been a great revelation to me,’ says Chinook Bill, ‘the sufferings o’ them captured monks es went crazy with the fever an’ tried to manslaughter one another.’
“‘Suppose I got took down?’ says I.
“‘It’s what been troublin’ me,’ says Chinook Bill, ‘an’ es a matter o’ precaution I vote we fill our shootin’ irons with blanks before we retire.’
“‘Chinook Bill,’ says I, ‘that was the voice o’ genius what spoke.’
“‘Arter that we made vows o’ constancy an’ took a swag at the aguardiente to seal the compact. Then we courted the arms o’ Morpheus. But it wasn’t long afore I woke up suddent, feelin’ light in the top o’ my head an’ grabbed my brace o’ pistols. I begun to stare wild, same es Chinook Bill, an’ seein’ Chinook Bill sleepin’ sound an’ a little elephant sittin’ on his nose I rose up an’ fired, indignant. Then a whole lot more little elephants jumped down from the trees, an’ there was some es played jews-harps an’ others es blowed trombones, an’ I grew speechless and frantic. Chinook Bill wakes up out of a unpleasant nightmare, an’ takin’ in the sitchooation at a glance, joins in the fusillade afore inquirin’ politely what might be the natur o’ the disturbance. An’ it soon oozes through my gray matter that Bill ain’t taking no notice o’ them little elephants, but makin’ deadly an’ sinister skirmishes at my sacred person.
“‘You infernal idjit,’ yells I, ‘shoot the elephants!’
“‘I knowed you was the chief,’ says he, ‘but you won’t fool me no more.’
“‘Chinook Bill,’ says I, ‘I have fer you a deep an’ all absorbin’ compassion.’