“Don’t, Ren!” says he sort-a sad like, “I’m unarmed.”
“Yo’re safe,” groans Ren, sinkin’ into uh chair. “I ain’t in no killin’ mood, Sig. I’m borderin’ on uh fit of despondency and I needs sympathy and advice like uh calf needs milk. Honest, I feel like uh Digger Injun would if somebody washed his neck and ears. My liver ain’t noways fresh an’ I feels that my lights is burnin’ low.”
“When I used to be uh lawless character,” stated Sig, as he fumbled under the bed for th’ mouth harp, “‘preachin’ allus affected me thataway. Gospel truths seem to—don’t strike me, Renley!”
Ren slumped down in the chair and held his head in his hands.
“I knowed it, I knowed it! Dang it all, them last two drinks—”
“Did she accept yuh?” grinned Sig.
“Accept me!” wailed Ren. “Dog-gone it, Sig, she didn’t wait fer that. She took me fer granted! She said—oh Lord! She said she didn’t care if I did used to act wild and shoot Chinamen and Greasers. Can yuh beat it, Sig? She gits me by th’ arm and leads me ’way off down th’ road—it was awful hot in that church and th’ hooch gits to bubblin’, and I ain’t noways to blame—leads me to that old cottonwood tree, which th’ lightnin’ hit last summer, and sits me down on uh log. Cripes! Why can’t lightnin’ hit twice in th’ same place? Then she—aw, I dunno—I do know that in th’ argument I didn’t have no more chance than uh snowball in Yuma!”
“Goin’ to marry her, Ren?”
“Not by a danged sight!” wailed Ren. “Mebby she’ll marry me though.”
Sig took a deep breath and the strains uh “Moonlight” permeated the room. Ren slipped his boot off sort-a unconcerned like and, “Bing!” Sig saw it comin’ and ducked off the other side and the boot hit the other side and started the nails.