PEACE TALK
shoo 'em outa camp, Luck, 'n' start 'em about their own dang business. 'N' we'll eat a bite 'n' git on about our own. If we show up any grub whilst this bunch is hangin' around we'll have t' feed 'em—'n' you know dang well we ain't got enough skurcely fer the Jemes trip as it is."
"I've been handing out money as it is till I'm about broke," Luck confessed, "making presents to those fellows that came in with bullets in their legs and arms. Funny nobody got hit in the body—except one poor devil that got shot in the shoulder."
"We-ell, now, you kin blame Lite's dang tender heart fer that there," Applehead accused, pulling at his sunbrowned mustache. "We was all comin' on the jump, 'n' so was the Injuns; 'n' it was purty long range 'n' nobody but Lite could hit 'n Injun t' save his soul. 'N' Lite, he wouldn't shoot t' kill—he jes' kep' on nippin' an' nickin', 'n' shootin' a hoss now an' then. I wisht I was the expert shot Lite is—I'd shore a got me a few Navvies back there, now I'm tellin' yuh!"
"Bud's got a bullet in his arm," Luck said, "but the bone wasn't hit, so he'll make out, and
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