Well, it's too bad you ain't a cowboy, Augustus said. Well, she's ours, Monkey John said. We got the tent. But the little short Indian just kept jabbering and pointing west.
Where they had hidden he didn't know, for he was in the center of a level plain. I guess men grow old and die standing here waiting to buy a dern stamp, the fiery fellow said. Maybe Indians had got on the boat and killed all the whiskey traders. If you win I'll let you have your horses back.
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