"This 'n'is smaller, dustier, not so purple." Bill eyed the speaker loftily.
"Wal, you'll have to ketch the other one to prove thet.

Sabe, pard?
Now I'll bet any gent heah the fifty I won thet I can scare thet dove with one stone." No one offered to take his wager.
"Wal, then, I'll bet any of you even money thet you CAN'T scare him with one stone." Not proof against this chance, the outlaws made up a purse, in no wise disconcerted by Bill's contemptuous allusions to their banding together.
The stone was thrown.

The dove did not fly.

Thereafter, in regard to that bird, Bill was unable to coax or scorn his comrades into any kind of wager.
He tried them with a multiplicity of offers, and in vain.

Then he appeared at a loss for some unusual and seductive wager.