Finally, wiping the tears of
enjoyment from his eyes, he related the story of the night's adventure.
"Air you tellin' me, Tobe Cullum," his wife said, when she had heard him to
the end--"air you p'intedly tellin' me that you've took Bud Hines
_snipin'_? An' that you've left that sickly, consumpted young man a-settin'
out there by hisse'f to catch his death of cold; or maybe git his blood
sucked out by a catamount!"
"Shucks, Sissy!" replied Tobe; "nothin' ain't goin' to hurt him. He's sech
a derned fool that a catamount wouldn't tech him with a ten-foot pole! An'
him a-whisslin' fer them snipe--oh Lord!"
"Tobe Cullum," said Mrs. Cullum, sternly, "you go saddle Buster this minit
and ride out to Buck Snort after Bud Hines."
"Why, honey--" remonstrated Tobe.
"Don't you honey me," she interrupted, wrathfully. "You saddle that horse
this minit an' fetch that consumpted boy home."
Tobe ceased to laugh. His big jaws set themselves suddenly square. "I'll do
no such fool thing," he declared, doggedly, "an' have the len'th an'
brea'th o' Jim-Ned makin' fun o' me."
"Very well," said his wife, with equal determination, "ef you don't go, I
will.
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