"He was ragin', for fair.
Couldn't get it off, to save him.

It stayed, that color, on 'em, till they'd shed the last one of last year's crop of feathers.

Sure, I remember.

Why wouldn't I?
Didn't I git a dollar for holdin' 'em for you?
And another dollar for keepin' my mouth shut?
But what are you lottin' to do with the stuff, this time?
No chickens here; or--" "Nope," assented Higham.

"No chickens here.