human
he exclaimed.
gpt
Looks like some Greaser had a grudge agin' him--somebody he's mebby fired off his payroll, or suspected of cattle-liftin'.
human
You're a stranger here, replied the proprietor.
gpt
I can tell ut aisy.
human
I am, an' glad of it, replied Bill, smiling;
gpt
Tim, this is Bill Long, that we heard about, for I saw him clean out Fisher. Long, this is Quayle, an' my name's Nelson. Cuss it, man! _I_'d say you was gettin' acquainted fast. What was that you was sayin' about th' white man an' th' Greasers, an' some mistake? It was sort of riled up.
human
It _is_ riled up, chuckled Bill, crossing his legs.
gpt
I gave it out just like I got it. As I says to Fisher last night, I'm a imitator. Any news about th' robbery?
human
Fine chance! An' d'ye think they'd be after tellin' on thimselves? That's th' only way for any news to be heard.
gpt
I may be a stranger, replied Bill;
human
It's th' only chance, then, he flung over his shoulder as he left them.
gpt
It's that d--d Mick. I'll be back soon.
human
he breathed.
gpt
I reckon th' reward might start somethin' out in th' open, but I wouldn't want to be th' man that tried for it. His voice dropped to a whisper.
human
In his natural voice he continued.
gpt
But, Twitchell an' Carpenter are shore powerful. An' they've got th' men an' th' money.
human
Do you reckon anybody had a personal grudge? asked Bill.
gpt
I'm near as much a stranger here as you are, answered Johnny,
human
He must 'a' been a good man, to work for th' T & C, replied Bill.
gpt
He was.
human
Oh, well; it ain't _my_ funeral. Feel like a little game?
gpt
I used to think I could play poker, chuckled Johnny;
human
If yer fingers was feet ye'd be as good! _Hould_ it, now--if ut slips this time I'll be after bustin' yer head. I've showed ye a dozen times how to put it back, an' still ye yell fer me. _There_, now--_hould_ it! Hand me th' wire--annybody'd think--blast th' blasted man that made ut! Some Dootchman, I'll wager.
gpt
Shure an' we ought to get a new wan--it's warped crooked, an' cracked----
human
We should, should we? roared the proprietor.
gpt
An' who are 'we'? Only tin years old, an' it's a new wan we'd be gettin', is ut? What we ought to be gettin' is a new cook, an' wan that's _not_ cracked. Now, th' nixt time ye poke ut, poke gently--ye ain't makin' post holes with that poker. An' _now_ look at me.
human
I hear it frequent, but it's allus funny. Sometimes they near come to blows.
gpt
Stove?
human
Shore th'--grate's buckled out of shape, an' it's a little short. Murphy gets mad at th' fire an' prods it good--an' then th' show starts all over again. It's funnier than th' devil when th' old man gets a blister from it, for he talks so that nobody but Murphy can understand one word in ten. Easy! Here he comes.
gpt
Buy a new wan, is ut? muttered the proprietor, his red face bearing a diagonal streak of soot.
human
Shure--for him to spile, like he spiled this wan. Ah, byes, I'm tellin' ye th' hotel business ain't what it used to be.
gpt
Yore face looks funny,
human
Oh, it does, does ut? Well, if my face don't suit ye--now would ye look at that? he demanded as he caught sight of his reflection in the dingy mirror over the desk.
gpt
But it ain't so bad, at that; th' black's above th' red!
human
Hey, Tim! came from the kitchen.
gpt
Thought ye said ye fixed ut? Ut's down agin!
human
I--I--I! sputtered Quayle wildly. He spread the soot over his face with a despairing sweep of his sleeve, leaped into the air and started on a lumbering run for the kitchen.
gpt
You--I--_d--n_ it!