"You do ce'tainly remind me of a lien with one chick, Steve," laughed Dick.
"I ain't worrying about you none. It's my own scalp kinder hangs loose every time you make one of your fool-plays," explained the other.
"Go pipe that up to your granny. Think I ain't learned my ABC's about my dry-nurse yet?"
"I'm going back to the gold camp to-morrow."
"You been saying that ever since you came here. Why don't you go, old Calamity Prophet?"
"Well, I am. Going to-morrow."
"You've hollered wolf too often, Steve. I'll believe it when I see it."
"Well, why don't you behave? What's the use of making a holy Caruso of yourself? Nobody ain't ever pined to hear you tune up, anyhow."
"All right. Mum's the word, old hoss. I'll be as solemn as if I was going to my own funeral."
"I ain't persuaded yet you're not."