"
He wet his lips, and didn't speak very loud nor steady, but he says:
"You lead."
"Well, hooray, Boston!" says I. "Beans is good food. Now don't take
it too serious till you have to. Perhaps there ain't more'n a laugh in
it. But--it's like smooth ice. How deep she is, you know when she
cracks, or don't. Be as easy as you can when we get up to 'em.
Nothing gained by bulling the ring. We must be prepared to look
pleasant and act very different. Turn your back and see that your toy
pistol is working."
Well, poor Burton! Wisht you seen him fumble his gun.
"I can't _see_ the thing," says he, kind of sniffling. "I'd give
something to be a man."
"You'll do for an imitation," I says. "Remember, I was born with red
hair; comes trouble, this hair of mine sheds a red light over the
landscape; I get happy-crazy; it's summer, and I can smell the flowers;
there's music a long ways off--why, I could sing this minute, but
there's no use in making matters worse. Honest, trouble makes me just
drunk enough to be limber and--talk too much. Come on."
We single-footed it down the hillside. The party stopped and drawed
together, four men quietly making a rank in front. That crowd had
walked barefoot.
We come to twenty yards of 'em in silence; then a tall lad swung out
towards us.
"How, Kola!" says I, wavin' my hand pleasant.
"How do you do!" says he, as if it wouldn't break his heart, no matter
what the answer was.
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