Stay with 'er, Lovins! Doggone it, can't yuh git that log outa there nohow?
Uh-h! A big old grunt and a big old heave--uh-h! I'll tell the world in words uh one syllable, he's some stayer." "Tell a worl'!" chuckled Lovin Child, and pulled harder at the thing he wanted.
"Hey! The kid's got hold of a piece of gunny sack or something.

You look out, Bud, or he'll have all that chinkin' out.

There's no sense in lettin' him tear the whole blame shack to pieces, is there ?" "Can if he wants to.

It's his shack as much as it's anybody's." Bud shifted Lovin Child more comfortably on his shoulder and looked up, squinting his eyes half shut for fear of dirt in them.
"For the love of Mike, kid, what's that you've got?
Looks to me like a piece of buckskin, Cash.

Here, you set down a minute, and let Bud take a peek up there." "Bud--pik-k ?" chirped Lovin Child from the blankets, where Bud had deposited him unceremoniously.
"Yes, Bud pik-k." Bud stepped up on the bunk, which brought his head above the low eaves.