"You can't cuss 'im t' death--he looks like he could cut loose a few of them pet names hisself if he got a chancet.

Yuh might tell us what you was doin' up that there tree, mister.

An' what you're doin' on this here butte, anyhow." Casey looked at him.

Knowing Casey, I should say that his eyes were not pleasant.

"Talk to Paw," he advised contemptuously.