Ye'd a thought a steam engyne had blowed up while he was puttin' wood in it.

He was kind o' limp and the mad had leaked out o' him.
"'I reckon I better find a doctor,' he says.
"'You get into my wagon and I'll take ye to a good one,' says Traylor.
"Just then Stephen Nuckles, the circuit minister, rode in with the big bloodhound that follers him around.
"The other slaver had got off his hoss in the scrimmage.

Traylor started for him.

The slaver began to back away and suddenly broke into a run.

The big dog took after him with a kind of a lion roar.