He instinctively flung one hand back to his hip, only to remember that all guns had been left at the door.

McNeil eyed him calmly, as he might eye a chained bear, his lips parted in a genial smile.
"I--eh--ain't no great shakes of an--eh--orator," he began, apologetically, waving one hand toward his gasping rival, "like Mr .-- eh--Moffat.

I can't sling words round--eh--reckless, like the--eh--gent what just had the floor, ner--eh--spout poetry, but I reckon--eh--I kin git out--eh--'bout what I got to say.

Mr.Moffat has--eh--told you what the--eh--Bachelor Miners' Club--eh--has been a-doin'.

He--eh--spread it on pretty blame thick, but--eh--I reckon they ain't--eh--all of 'em miners round this yere--eh--camp.