human
Here 'tis, I reckon! cried Mississip, springing across a small cleft in the rocks, and running toward a dark object lying on the sheltered side of a small cliff.
gpt
Good God! he continued, as he stooped down;
human
Serve him right, cuss him, growled Lynn Taps.
gpt
I almost wish he _had_ a soul, so he could catch it good an' hot, now he's gone!
human
He's got his pack with him, shouted Mississip,
gpt
No man with a soul could hev ben cool enough to pack up his traps after seein' that poor woman's face,