"Sure!--it stan's so on the record, which makes it true an' legal.
My knowin' better doesn't make any difference with legal truth; it
wasn't my funeral and I wasn't invited to deliver an oration. But
the fact is, W'isky was jealous o' ME"--and the little wretch
actually swelled out like a turkeycock and made a pretense of
adjusting an imaginary neck-tie, noting the effect in the palm of his
hand, held up before him to represent a mirror.

"Jealous of YOU!" I repeated with ill-mannered astonishment.

"That's what I said. Why not?--don't I look all right?"

He assumed a mocking attitude of studied grace, and twitched the
wrinkles out of his threadbare waistcoat. Then, suddenly dropping
his voice to a low pitch of singular sweetness, he continued:

"W'isky thought a lot o' that Chink; nobody but me knew how 'e doted
on 'im. Couldn't bear 'im out of 'is sight, the derned protoplasm!
And w'en 'e came down to this clear-in' one day an' found him an' me
neglectin' our work--him asleep an' me grapplin a tarantula out of
'is sleeve--W'isky laid hold of my axe and let us have it, good an'
hard! I dodged just then, for the spider bit me, but Ah Wee got it
bad in the side an' tumbled about like anything. W'isky was just
weigh-in' me out one w'en 'e saw the spider fastened on my finger;
then 'e knew he'd made a jack ass of 'imself. He threw away the axe
and got down on 'is knees alongside of Ah Wee, who gave a last little
kick and opened 'is eyes--he had eyes like mine--an' puttin' up 'is
hands drew down W'isky's ugly head and held it there w'ile 'e stayed.
That wasn't long, for a tremblin' ran through 'im and 'e gave a bit
of a moan an' beat the game."