"I don't know but what I am one myself." "That so ?" said Bill, with sudden interest.
"I guess so," was the modest reply.
"Got it bad ?" went on Bill, with a note of anxiety in his tone.
But the young man turned to The Pilot and tried to open a fresh argument.
"Whatever he's got," said Bill to the others, in a mild voice, "it's spoilin' his manners." "Yes," went on Bill, meditatively, after the slight laugh had died, "it's ruinin' to the judgment.

He don't seem to know when he interferes with the game.

Pity, too." Still the argument went on.
"Seems as if he ought to take somethin'," said Bill, in a voice suspiciously mild.

"What would you suggest ?" "A walk, mebbe!" said Hi, in delighted expectation.
"I hold the opinion that you have mentioned an uncommonly vallable remedy, better'n Pain Killer almost." Bill rose languidly.
"I say," he drawled, tapping the young fellow, "it appears to me a little walk would perhaps be good, mebbe." "All right, wait till I get my cap," was the unsuspecting reply.
"I don't think perhaps you won't need it, mebbe.

I cherish the opinion you'll, perhaps, be warm enough." Bill's voice had unconsciously passed into a sterner tone.