"That counts! You're bonded, Verman." "Aim meewer!" Verman protested.
Interpreting this as "Ain't neither", Sam invented a law to suit the occasion.

"Yes, you are; that's the rule, Verman.

I touched your hat with my sword, and your hat's just the same as you." "Imm mop!" Verman insisted.
"Yes, it is," said Sam, already warmly convinced (by his own statement) that he was in the right.

"Listen here! If I hit you on the shoe, it would be the same as hitting YOU, wouldn't it?
I guess it'd count if I hit you on the shoe, wouldn't it?
Well, a hat's just the same as shoes.
Honest, that's the rule, Verman, and you're a pris'ner." Now, in the arguing part of the game, Verman's impediment cooperated with a native amiability to render him far less effective than in the actual combat.

He chuckled, and ceded the point.
"Aw wi," he said, and cheerfully followed his captor to a hidden place among some bushes in the front yard, where Penrod lurked.
"Looky what _I_ got!" Sam said importantly, pushing his captive into this retreat.