I made the remark as how the boys ginerally put up for what they wanted without no fuss, and that if they was sot on havin' a Gospel shack I cherished the opinion"-- here Gwen went off into a smothered shriek, which made Bill pause and look at her in alarm.
"Go on," she gasped.
"I cherished the opinion," drawled on Bill, while Gwen stuck her handkerchief into her mouth, "that mebbe they'd put up for it the seven hundred dollars, and, even as it was, seein' as The Pilot appeared to be sot on to it, if them fellers would find two hundred and fifty I cher--" another shriek from Gwen cut him suddenly short.
"It's the rheumaticks, mebbe," said Bill, anxiously.

"Terrible bad weather for 'em.

I get 'em myself." "No, no," said Gwen, wiping away her tears and subduing her laughter.
"Go on, Bill." "There ain't no more," said Bill.

"He bit, and the master here put it down." "Yes, it's here right enough," I said, "but I don't suppose you mean to follow it up, do you ?" "You don't, eh?
Well, I am not responsible for your supposin', but them that is familiar with Bronco Bill generally expects him to back up his undertakin's." "But how in the world can you get five hundred dollars from the cowboys for a church ?" "I hain't done the arithmetic yet, but it's safe enough.

You see, it ain't the church altogether, it's the reputation of the boys." "I'll help, Bill," said Gwen.
Bill nodded his head slowly and said: "Proud to have you," trying hard to look enthusiastic.
"You don't think I can," said Gwen.