And when they see that sign, "Water, two bits a head," their eyes stuck out like two raw oysters.
Then come the kicks.

What a howl they did raise, shorely.

But it didn't do no manner of good.

Texas Pete didn't do nothin' but sit there and smoke, with a kind of sulky gleam in one corner of his eye.
He didn't even take the trouble to answer, but his Winchester lay across his lap.

There wasn't no humour in the situation for him.
"How much is your water for humans ?" asks one emigrant.
"Can't you read that sign ?" Texas Pete asks him.
"But you don't mean two bits a head for HUMANS!" yells the man.