'If you don't cut this
out 'n' let me get my rest I'll quit the game tomorrow!'
"It gets so I don't dare look at Peewee fur fear we'll get started 'n'
Butsy'll quit.
"At a burg called Mansfield I finds a good bunch of live ones 'n' we
grabs off three hundred life-savers. It seems to help Butsy a lot--he
acts more cheerful right away.
"'Cherries are ripe,' he says. 'Our next town's Mount Clinton. I know
every boob in it. We'll sift some change out of them Knox County
plow-pushers.'
"We ships over the B. & O. to Mount Clinton. It's rainin' when we
unloads, 'n' Butsy ain't as cheerful as he was.
"'How far is it to the track?' Peewee says to him.
"'About three miles 'n' all hills,' says Butsy.
"'How do you get out?' says Peewee.
"'We could take the street-car if it wasn't fur the hosses,' says
Butsy. 'As it is we'll have to hoof it through the mud.'
"'Look-a here,' I says to Butsy, 'there's no sense in three of us
gettin' wet. You know the way 'n' we don't. You take the hosses 'n'
we'll come out on the street-car.'
"'I thought it 'ud be like that,' says Butsy. 'You two always pick out
the soft stuff fur yourselves 'n' hand me the lemons. I guess I'll
just put my hoss back in the freight car 'n' be on my way.'
"'Now, Butsy,' I says, 'have some sense! We ain't slippin' you
nothin'. I'd take the dogs 'n' leave you 'n' Peewee ride if I knew the
way. What do you want to make a crack about quittin' fur just as the
game's gettin' good?' I says.
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