"'Which I shore ain't over peart none,' retorts the stranger.

"'An' you-all can put down a bet,' returns Ugly Collins, 'I learns of
your ill-health with regrets. It's this a-way: I ain't had no
exercise yet this evenin'; an' as I tracks in yere, I registers a vow
to wallop the first gent I meets up with to whom I've not been
introdooced ;--merely by way of stretchin' my muscles. Now I must
say--an' I admits it with sorrow--that you-all is that onhappy sport.
It's no use; I knows I'll loathe myse'f for crawlin' the hump of a
gent who's totterin' on the brink of the grave; but whatever else can
I do? Vows is vows an' must be kept, so you might as well prepare
yourse'f for a cloud of sudden an' painful vicissitoodes.'

"As Ugly Collins says this he kind o' reaches for the invalid gent
where he's camped in a cha'r. It's a onfortunate gesture; the
invalid--as quick as a rattlesnake,--prodooces a derringer, same as
Doc Peets allers packs, from his surtoot an' the bullet carries away
most of Ugly Collins' lower jaw.

"'You-all is goin' to be a heap sight more of a audience than a
orator yereafter, Collins,' says Doc Peets, as he ties up the
villain's visage that a-way. 'Also, you oughter be less reckless an'
get the address of your victims before embarkin' on them
skelp-collectin' enterprises of yours. That gent you goes ag'inst is
Doc Holliday; as hard a game as lurks anywhere between the Slope an'
the Big Muddy.'

"Does the Stranglers do anything to this Holliday? Why, no, not
much; all they does is present him with a Colt's-44 along with the
compliments of the camp.