"Me go around an' tote him off? I
ain't no wagon: yu go, or send Johnny."
"Johnny would say something real pert an' get knocked into th' middle of
next week for it. He won't do, so I reckon yu better go yoreself," responded
Buck, smiling broadly and moving off.
"Hey, yu! Wait a minute!" cried Red in consternation. Buck paused and Red
groped for an excuse: "Why don't you send Billy?" He blurted in desperation.
The foreman's smile assumed alarming proportions and he slapped his thigh in
joy: "Good boy!" he laughed. "Billy's th' man-good Lord, but won't he give
Cupid cold feet! Rustle around an' send th' pessimistic soul to me."
Red, grinning and happy, rapidly visited door after door, shouted, "Hey,
Billy!" and proceeded to the next one. He was getting pugnacious at his lack
of success when he espied Mr. Billy Williams tacking along the accidental
street as if he owned it. Mr. Williams was executing fancy steps and was
trying to sing many songs at once.
Red stopped and grabbed his bibulous friend as that person veered to
starboard: "Yore a peach of a life-preserver, yu are!" he exclaimed.
Billy balanced himself, swayed back and forth and frowned his displeasure at
this unwarranted action: "I ain't no wife-deserter!" he shouted. "Unrope me
an' give me th' trail! No tenderfoot can ride me! "Then he recognized his
friend and grinned joyously: "Shore I will, but only one.
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