We disclaims all credit for seeing two red cows, and they departs.
“Somebody’s uh heap crazy around here, Ike,” states Magpie. “Either they’re crazy to look for uh thing with uh name like that, or we’re crazy for not looking. Let’s me and you go over on Roaring Crick tomorrow and do uh little gophering on that quartz seam. Maybe we’ll meet uh railami on the trail, eh?”
Me and Magpie gets enthusiastic over the way that quartz seam shows up, and when we leaves there we’re out uh grub. Magpie suggests that we pilgrims to Piperock and get uh banquet uh ham and aigs, and I’m right with him, so we points our burros toward town.
Magpie is still wearing that yaller hard hat. The burro he’s riding turns its head once in uh while and looks back. It sizes him up, shakes its ears, sad-like, and pilgrims on. Magpie sure is dressed up like uh plush horse, and all he needs is uh cane to be uh cripple for life.
There seems to be uh certain degree of excitement in Piperock, when we arrives. Chuck Warner is setting on his bronc out there in the middle of the street, and he’s surrounded with uh crowd. Lying down in the dusty road is that blasted bird that Magpie bought, and uh rope runs from Chuck’s saddle to its long neck. The bird seems to be the coolest thing in town.
“What do yuh reckon to do with it, Chuck?” asks Dirty Shirt, and everybody seems interested.
“Danged if I know,” replies Chuck. “I ain’t never seen nothing like it before. It just comes busting along down the road, and I hangs my rope on it. Wish I knowed what she is.”
“How much do yuh want for it, Mister Warner?” asks Judge Steele, looking the critter over, and fumbling in his pocket.
“You don’t want it, do yuh, Judge?” laughs Masterson. “You couldn’t eat it.”
“I don’t know what she’s worth, Judge,” states Chuck. “Ain’t she some whopper of uh piece uh poultry? What do yuh reckon she’s worth?”