Moreover he gets used frequent to things that he's born with notions ag'inst; an' them aversions will simmer an' subside ontil he's friendly with folks he once honed to shoot on sight.

It turns out that a-way about me an' this Hardrobe an' his boy Bloojacket.

What he'ps, no doubt, is they're capar'soned like folks, with big hats, bloo shirts, trousers, cow-laiggin's, boots an' spurs, fit an' ready to enter a civilised parlour at the drop of the handkerchief.

Ceasin' to rope for reasons, however, it's enough to say these savages an' me waxes as thick as m'lasses.

Both of 'em's been eddicated at some Injun school which the gov'ment--allers buckin' the impossible, the gov'ment is,--upholds in its vain endeavours to turn red into white an' make folks of a savage.
"Bloojacket is down from the Bad Land country himself not long prior, bein' he's been servin' his Great Father as one of Gen'ral Crook's scouts in the Sittin' Bull campaign.