'
"'Well, we challenges the dipper,' says Tutt. 'You-all will fight on
the squar', or we removes our gent.'
"'Don't, don't!' shouts Texas, like he's agitatcd no limit; 'don't
take him outen my sight no more. I only fetches the cup to drink his
blood; but it's a small detail, which I shore relinquishes before
ever I allows my heaven-sent prey the least loophole to escape.'
"When Peets goes up an' takes Texas's cup, the two debates together
in a whisper, Texas lettin' on he's mighty hot an' furious. At last
Peets says to him:
"'Which I tells you sech a proposal is irreg'lar; but since you
insists, of course I names it. My gent yere,' goes on Peets to Boggs
an' Tutt, 'wants to agree that the survivor's to be allowed to skelp
his departed foe. Does the bluff go?'
"'It's what our gent's been urgin' from the jump,' says Boggs; 'an'
tharfore we consents with glee. Round up that outlaw of yours now,
an' let's get to shootin'.'
"I don't reckon I ever sees anybody who seems as fatigued as that
Signal person when Boggs an' Tutt starts to lead him up to the
blanket. His face looks like a cancelled postage-stamp. While
they're standin' up their folks, Texas goes ragin' loose ag'in
because it's a fight over a blanket an' not a handkerchief, as he
demands.
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