Do you know, sometimes I think I was not designed for this vocation, and, just between you and me, there was a day when--" He paused and coughed a trifle, then said, sharply, "Well, what are you waiting for ?" Together they went into the trader's house.
Back in the store there was silence after the priest and the soldier went out, which Gale broke at last: "This forgiveness talk is all right, I suppose--but _I_ WANT RUNNION!" "We'll git him, too," growled Lee, at which Poleon uttered a curt exclamation: "No!" "Why not ?" said the miner.
"Wal," the Canadian drawled, slowly, then paused to light the cigarette he had rolled in a bit of wrapping-paper, inhaled the smoke deeply to the bottom of his lungs, held it there a moment, and blew it out through mouth and nostrils before adding, "you'll jus' be wastin' tam'!" Gale looked up from beneath his thatch of brow, and asked, quietly: "Why ?" "You 'member--story I tol' you wan day, two, t'ree mont' ago," Poleon remarked, with apparent evasion, "'bout Johnny Platt w'at I ketch on de Porcupine all et up by skeeter-bugs ?" "I do," answered Gale.
"Wal,"-- he met their eyes squarely, then drew another long breath from his cigarette--"I'm jus' hopin' nobody don' pick it up dis Runnion feller de same way.

Mebbe dey fin' hees han's tie' behin' 'im wit' piece of hees shirt-" "Good God!" cried the trader, starting to his feet.

"You--you--" "-- of course, I'm jus' s'posin'.

He was feel purty good w'en I lef'.

He was feel so good I tak' hees coat for keepin' off dem bugs from me, biccause I lef it my own shirt on de canoe.