But if you was to prance out an' try it some, it would be found plenty
complex. See yere!' goes on the pin-feather party, beginnin' to roll
up his sleeve, 'you-all impresses me as more or less a jedge of
casyooalities. Whatever now do you think of this? 'An' the
pin-feather party exhibits a bullet wound in his left fore-arm, the
same bein' about half healed.

"'Colt's six-shooter,' says Enright.

"'That's straight,' says the pin-feather party, buttonin' up his
sleeve; 'you calls the turn. I wins out that abrasion pleadin' with
the old gent. Which I tackles him twice. The first time he opens on
me with his 44-gun before ever I ends the sentence. But he misses.
Nacherally, I abandons them marital intentions for what you-all might
call the "nonce" to sort o' look over my hand ag'in an' see be I right.
Do my best I can't on earth discern no reasons ag'in the nuptials.
Moreover, the lady--who takes after her old gent a heap--cuts in on the
play with a bluff that while she don't aim none to crowd my hand, she's
doo to begin shootin' me up herse'f if I don't show more passionate
anxiety about leadin' her to the altar. It's then, not seein' why the
old gent should go entertainin' notions ag'in me, an' deemin' mebby
that when he blazes away that time he's merely pettish and don't really
mean said bullet none, that I fronts up ag'in.'

"'An' then,' asks Enright, 'whatever does this locoed parent do?'

"'Which I jest shows you what,' says the pin-feather party. 'He gets
the range before ever I opens my mouth, an' plugs me. At that I begins
to half despair of winnin' his indorsements. I leaves it to you-all;
be I right?'