Remember, boys, when I do, bury me with my boots on, just as I die." "Stop your clatter about dyin', Bill.

I'm sick o' that kind of talk.
It's time enough to talk of death when its clutch is on you." "I can't help it, Joe, old pard.

It keeps a stickin' in my throat, and if it didn't come out, I'd choke." "Let's go to camp," said Chichester.

"Can you walk now, Bill ?' "Yes." And the party rose, took a parting drink with the landlord, and started for camp.
Outside, Bill gave a startled, wild glance toward the spot where he had seen the Texan; but no one was there now, and he moved on with his companions toward their camp, listening to, but not joining in their conversation.
On arriving at camp, Chichester, as captain, gave orders that each man should report on paper, or verbally, so it could be taken down, just how much ammunition he had, the number and kind of his arms, private stores, etc., so that if there was not enough to make the trip safely, more could be provided.

The number and condition of horses, pack-mules, etc., was also to be given.
No man would be fitted to lead such a party did he not consider and post himself fully in all these particulars.
Quite a crowd of townspeople followed the party out, for the news soon spread that they intended to leave in a short time; so around their blazing camp-fire there were many visitors.