I don't blame Weary; he's looking out for the law-and-order business--and that's all right.

But I'm not in charge of the outfit.

I'm going to do as I darn please, and, if they don't like my style, they can give me my time." "Good for you, Little One!" Big Medicine hurried to overtake him so that he might slap him on the shoulder with his favorite, sledge-hammer method of signifying his approval of a man's sentiments.

"Honest to grandma, I was just b'ginnin' to think this bunch was gitting all streaked up with yeller.

'Course, we ain't goin' to wait for no official orders, by cripes! I'd ruther lock Weary up in the blacksmith shop than let him tell us to go ahead.