Take a look at my mine first." McNeil chuckled.

"You--eh--better be careful goin' up that--eh--gully," he volunteered, soberly, "the--eh--ghosts of them four--eh--Injuns might--eh--haunt ye!" Moffat wheeled about as if he had been shot in the back.

"You blathering, mutton-headed cowherd!" he yelled, savagely.
But McNeil was already nearly out of hearing..