“Howdy, Tellurium. Where yuh goin’?”
“Reckoned I’d pilgrim down and see if Bantie’s got home yet. Did yuh see him?”
“Uh-ha. I stopped by his cabin fer uh spell.”
“Did he have anything to say about me and you and th’ pets?” asked Tellurium, with a grin.
“Not uh word. I reckon he’s done forgot it. Nice li’l feller that Bantie.”
“Nice enough fer uh runt, but I don’t admire th’ breed none. He’s too doggone scary, Magpie.”
“Un-ha,” agreed Magpie. “He shore ain’t got no corner on nerve. Well, I got to be goin’. Come over tonight and play uh little poker. I don’t suppose Bantie wants to play but yuh might ask him.”
Tellurium rambled off down the trail and Magpie stood there and watched him for a while. Finally he scratched his neck and murmured:
“Mebby I’d ought to have told him but—shucks, it wasn’t nothin’—not uh danged thing! But jist th’ same I—huh!”
Bantie was washing a pair of overalls in a battered dishpan when Tellurium hove in sight, and he threw them over a stump to dry.