I see you're headin' fer the river.

But will you stop long enough to stake a feller to a bite of grub ?" "I'm out of grub, and pretty hungry myself," admitted Duane.
"Been pushin' your hoss, I see.

Wal, I reckon you'd better stock up before you hit thet stretch of country." He made a wide sweep of his right arm, indicating the southwest, and there was that in his action which seemed significant of a vast and barren region.
"Stock up ?" queried Duane, thoughtfully.
"Shore.

A feller has jest got to eat.

I can rustle along without whisky, but not without grub.