I ain't bragging none, but I guess you'll hear my name mentioned--I guess you'll even see it in print in the newspapers!" He warmed his cold hands over the stove.

"Throw in a little more coal, sonny; I'm half froze, but I guess that's the worst any one can say of me!" "You make much of it, whatever it is," said Mrs.Shrimplin.
"Maybe I do and maybe I don't," equivocated Mr.Shrimplin genially.
"Maybe you're not above telling a body what kept you out half the night ?" inquired his wife.
"If you done and seen what I've did and saw," replied Mr.Shrimplin impressively, "you'd look for a little respect in your own home." "I'd be a heap quicker telling about it," said Mrs.Shrimplin.
Mr.Shrimplin turned to Custer.
"I guess, you're thinking it was a burglar; but, sonny, it wasn't no burglar--so you got another guess coming to you," he concluded benevolently.
"I know!" cried Custer.

"Some one's been killed!" "Exactly!" said Mr.Shrimplin with increasing benevolence.

"Some one has been killed!" "You done it!" cried Custer.
"I found the party," admitted Mr.Shrimplin with calm dignity.
"Oh!" But perhaps Custer's first emotion was on the whole one of disappointment.
"How you talk!" said Mrs.Shrimplin.
"I reckon I might say more, most any one would," retorted Mr.Shrimplin quietly.

"It was old man McBride--someone's murdered him for his money; I never seen the town so on end over anything before, but whoever wants to be well posted's got to come to me for the particulars.