“Well,” says he foolish-like: “Well, I’ll be ——!”
Then he looks over at Windy, who looks as serious as a funeral.
“You sabe what he means?”
“Sure. He’s right, too.”
“Well. Mebbe that’s right. Huh!”
Then Mr. Bowers swings his horse around and goes poco poco off down the road, deep in thought.
“What’s adenoids, Hashknife?” asks Windy. “I know danged well that Bowers ought to have his cut out, yuh understand, but I ain’t clear in my own mind what they be.”
“Somethin’ that grows in his head,” says Hashknife.
“Sure,” nods Windy. “I hope they has to remove his whole danged head to get at ’em.”
“What did the sheriff mean, Windy, when he wanted to know what was going to be done with the Circle Dot? Didn’t Haley have no relatives?”