Pink it was who first spoke. "I ain't the boy to let any long-legged
son-of-a-gun like Irish hit a gait I can't follow," he dimpled, and
took the saddle reluctantly off Toots. "If he can stand it, I guess I
can."

Weary loosened his latigo. "If Cadwolloper is going to learn poetry, I
will, too," he grinned. "Mama! it'll be good as a three-ringed circus!
I never thought uh that, before. I couldn't miss it."

"Oh, well, if you fellows take a hand, I'll sure have to be there to
see," Andy decided. "Two o'clock, did she say?"

* * * * *

"I hate to be called a quitter," Pink remarked dispiritedly to the
Happy Family in general; a harassed looking Happy Family, which sat
around and said little, and watched the clock. In an hour they would
be due to attend the second meeting of the M.I.S.S.--and one would
think, from the look of them, that they were about to be hanged. "I
hate to be called a quitter, but right here's where I lay 'em down.
The rest of yuh can go on being improved, if yuh want to--darned if I
will, though. I'm all in."

"I don't recollect hearing anybody say we wanted to," growled Jack
Bates. "Irish, maybe, is still burning with a desire to be nice and
chivalrous; but you can count me out. One dose is about all I can
stand."

"By golly, I wouldn't go and feel that foolish again, not if yuh paid
me for it," Slim declared.