Next, Ford turned his attention to the man beside him, who happened to be Bill.

For one long minute the grim spirit of war hovered just over the two.
"Aw, forget it, Ford," Bill urged ingratiatingly at last.

"You don't want to lick anybody--least of all old Bill! Look at them knuckles! You couldn't thump a feather bed.

Anyway, you got the guilty party when you done slapped Sam up to a peak and then knocked the peak off.

Made him swaller his cud, too, by hokey! Say, Sam, my old dad used to feed a cow on bacon-rinds when she done lost her cud.