“Me and Peters sits there fer uh spell lookin’ foolish-like at each other and not knowin’ what to say.
“Finally I opines aloud that I believe Magpie’s been eatin’ loco salad and I’d better close-herd him before he bites somebody. Uh course Peters politely offers his valuable services, but I’m able to decline with thanks.
“Knowin’ Magpie’s failin’ in times uh stress, I ambles straight fer th’ nearest hooch emporium. I proves my deductions. There he is, draped over th’ bar, lookin’ sad-like into uh glass uh woblum—that bein’ th’ Chippeway appellation fer whisky.
“‘Magpie,’ sez I, puttin’ uh friendly hand on his droopin’ shoulder and motionin’ to th’ barkeep that mine’s th’ same, ‘why this cross between uh foot race and uh Piegan war dance?’
“He looks me over like uh man who is seein’ his last white chip go into th’ rack. He lifts up his right hand straight over his head like th’ peace signs yuh see in movin’ pictures and says:
“‘Never again, Ike! Never again!’
“I’m agreeable. I don’t know what he means, but I’m pleased. Any time Magpie says ‘Never again,’ I looks at th’ future with more animation.
“‘Ike,’ sez he, mournful-like, ‘I’m sorry. It ain’t fair to you. I reckon I’m one uh them unfortunate persons who are born with uh lot uh brains and no sense. Some way I seems to ball up everything. But, Ike, I asks yuh, how did I know? I can’t see that far, and it seemed like——’
“‘Magpie,’ I replies, ‘let’s have uh little more uh th’ same and then I’ll accept any explanation yuh delivers. Remember, I’m uh heap in th’ dark yet.’
“‘Ike, yo’re uh trustin’ soul. Yuh shore are salt uh th’ earth. I shore spilled th’ beans, Ike, but I proved my point. Yes, sir, I reckon I proved it entirely. I knowed that uh little psychology with uh dash uh copper would make Tellurium—dang his little old petrified, moss-backed, narrow, contracted soul——’