"'"You ain't
got no dates, nor speshul engagements with nobody in the States,
have you?" says Tate to me when
we're safe outen them Mexican's hands. "'"No,"says I,"whatever makes
you ask? "'"Oh, nothin',"says Tate lookin' at the sky sorter black
an' ugly, "only since you-all has the leesure, what for a play would
it be to make a long camp back in these hills by some water-hole
some'ers,
an' stand pat ontil we downs these yere Greasers--squaws an' all--
who's had us treed? It oughter be did; an' if we-ails don't do it
none, it's a heap likely it's goin' to be neglected complete. It's
easy as a play; every hoss-thief of 'em lives right in these yere
valleys, for I hears 'em talk. All we has to do is sa'nter back in
the hills, make a camp; an' by bein' slow an' shore, an' takin' time
an' pains, we bushwhacks an' kills the last one." "'The way I feels
about Willis makes the prospect
mighty allurin,' an' tharupon Tate an' me opens a game with them
Mexicans it takes five months to deal. "'But it's plumb dealt out,
an' we win. When Tate crosses the Rio Grande with the army goin'
back, he shorely has the skelp of every Mexican incloosive of said
Princess. "'But I wanders from Willis.
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