"Get to it.

You started fine." "He didn't start at all," Jim said.
"That's what Bill means," explained Shorty.
"Aw, let him tell th' story," said Charlie Bassett.

"You fellers that ain't liars yourselves is all jealous." Whitey would have thought that the tale was to go untold had he not known that every story of Buck's met with this sort of reception, and that nothing short of an earthquake could keep him from talking.
"Well, just to show you fellers you can't queer me, I _will_ tell about this here lynchin'," Buck declared, after a pause.
"'Twas back in Wyomin', 'bout five years ago," Buck began, "an' I was workin' for the Lazy I.An' rustlers was good an' plenty.

An' every one knows that there ain't on easier brand to cover up than a lazy I.It was got up by old man Innes, what owned th' ranch, an' lived in Boston, an' was so honest an' unsuspectin' that he'd 'a' trusted Slim, here, with a lead nickel." Fortunately Slim was asleep, and did not hear this reflection on his character, so Buck continued: "Well, our stock had been disappearin' in bunches, an' purty soon them bunches begins t' seem more like herds, an' somethin' had t' be did, an' Squeak Gordon, th' manager, wa'n't no man for th' job." "Squeak!" interrupted Jim.

"That's a fine name for a white man." "'Count of his voice," Buck explained briefly, and went on.