“Sounds like ——!” he snorts. “We was going along, sleepy like, when it crows. Runaway. Lost the crate out the wagon.”
“Uh-huh,” agrees Magpie. “Crate busted and canary flew.”
“Canary!” Art spits out the word like he’d pulled uh slug from his old pipe. “Magpie Simpkins, you can get the dangdest things sent to you. What yuh going to use that thing for?”
“Art,” says Chuck, chiding like, “you neglected your duty as uh stage-driver when yuh let that piece uh valuable freight get away.”
“Well, go ahead and say it,” replies Art, resigned like.
“Can you forget that you ever had that bird in your care?” asks Chuck.
“Audibly or mentally, Chuck?” asks Art.
“Audibly.”
“I hope to some day.”
“Be worth uh five spot, and no questions asked, Art.”