Which you can see he's gettin' up his blood an'
nerve, reg'lar Injun fashion.
"Next he takes down his rope an' goes to whirlin' that. Two or three
times he comes flashin' by where we be, an' I looks to see him make
a try at Jack. But he's too far back, or thar's too many 'round
Jack, or Pickles can't get the distance, or something; for he don't
throw it none, but jest keeps yellin' an' ridin' louder an' faster.
Pickles shorely puts up a heap of riot that a-way! It's now that
Enright calls to Pickles.
"'Look yere, Pickles,' he says, 'I've passed the word to the five
best guns in camp to curl you up if you pitch that rope once. Bein'
as the news concerns you, personal, I allows it's nothin' more'n
friendly to tell you. Then ag'in, I don't like to lose the Red Light
sech a customer like you till it's a plumb case of crowd.'
"When Enright vouchsafes this warnin', Pickles swings down an'
leaves his pony standin', an' comes over.
"'Do you know, Jack,' he says, 'I don't like the onrespectful tones
wherein you talks of Injuns. I'm Injun, part, myse'f, an' I don't
like it.'
"'No?' says Jack; 'I s'pose that's a fact, too. An' yet, Pickles,
not intendin' nothin' personal, for I wouldn't be personal with a
prairie dog, I'm not only onrespectful of Injuns, an' thinks the
gov'ment ought to pay a bounty for their skelps, but I states
beliefs that a hoss-stealin', skulkin' mongrel of a half-breed is
lower yet; I holdin' he ain't even people--ain't nothin', in fact.
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