I don't like the looks of it.

I don't feel right, somehow.

An' while I'm wishin', I wisht the trip was over an' done with, an' you an' me a-sittin' by the fire in Fort McGurry just about now an' playing cribbage--that's what I wisht." Henry grunted and crawled into bed.

As he dozed off he was aroused by his comrade's voice.
"Say, Henry, that other one that come in an' got a fish--why didn't the dogs pitch into it?
That's what's botherin' me." "You're botherin' too much, Bill," came the sleepy response.

"You was never like this before.