“They were sent after that old man,” says Buddy.
“It’s been a hard day for Willer Crick,” observes Hashknife.
Bassett can’t hang onto himself any longer. Hashknife takes off his hat and holds it in his hand until Bassett stops.
“Sleepy,” says Hashknife, “did yuh ever hear the like. I wish I could cuss like that. Bassett, you’re one of the fellers who was sent down here to stop the old man, ain’t yuh? Did the mule kick yuh or did the old man bite yuh?”
Bassett refuses to talk, and the other feller is too sick to remember.
“A feller by the name of Poky Vane is tied up in Mitch Ames’ cabin,” says Hashknife. “I reckon you’ll see that he gets loose.”
“Willer Crick will git you yet!” snarls Bassett.
“I refuse to argue,” grins Hashknife.
“Home won’t never seem the same to you fellers. Adios.”
We left ’em there in the road.