When he squared himself again and buzzed his spurs against the bar, his mind was wholly given to the proper execution of the musical gem.
"She can make a punkin pie, Quick's a cat can wink her eye--" Something was going on, over in the dimly lighted corner near the door.

Half a dozen men had grouped themselves there with their backs to Billy and they were talking and laughing; but the speech of them was an unintelligible clamor and their laughter a commingling roar.
Billy gravely inspected his cigarette, which had gone cold, set down the glass and sought diligently for a match.
"Aw, come on an' have one on me!" bawled a voice peremptorily.

"Yuh can't raise no wild cattle around _this_ joint, lessen yuh wet up good with whisky.

Why, a feller as long as you be needs a good jolt for every foot of yuh--and that's about fifteen when you're lengthened out good.

Come on--don't be a damn' chubber! Yuh got to sample m' hospitality.