I think first I got her
good an' proper, an' then she drops out all of a sudden, an' I lose the
lead. It's mighty aggravating let me tell ye. Ye see it's this way.
She 's got some durn down East-notion that she's got ter be rescued,
an' borne away in the arms of her hero (thet's 'bout the way she puts
it), like they do in them pesky novels the Kid 's allers reading and so
I reckon I 've got ter rescue her!"
"Rescue her from whut, Jack? Thar' ain't nuthin' 'round yere just now
as I know of, less it's rats."
The lover glanced about to make sure they were alone. "Well, ye see,
Pete, maybe I 'm partly to blame. I 've sorter been entertainin' her
nights with some stories regardin' road-agents an' things o' thet sort,
while, so fur as I kin larn, thet blame chump of a McNeil hes been
fillin' her up scandalous with Injuns, until she 's plum got 'em on the
brain. Ye know a feller jist hes ter gas along 'bout somethin' like
thet, fer it's no fool job ter entertain a female thet's es frisky es a
young colt. And now, I reckon as how it's got ter be Injuns."
"Whut's got ter be Injuns?"
"Why thet outfit whut runs off with her, of course.
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