"Yards of it! Red!" "Git out!" contradicted Hi.

"Red! Tain't no more red than mine!" Bill regarded Hi's hair critically.
"What color do you put onto your old brush ?" he asked cautiously.
"'Tain't no difference.

'Tain't red, anyhow." "Red! Well, not quite exactly," and Bill went off into a low, long, choking chuckle, ejaculating now and then, "Red! Jee-mi-ny Ann! Red!" "No, Hi," he went on, recovering himself with the same abruptness as he used with his bronco, and looking at his friend with a face even more than usually solemn, "your hayer ain't red, Hi; don't let any of your relatives persuade you to that.

'Tain't red!" and he threatened to go off again, but pulled himself up with dangerous suddenness.

"It may be blue, cerulyum blue or even purple, but red--!" He paused violently, looking at his friend as if he found him a new and interesting object of study upon which he could not trust himself to speak.