Feet no damn good for walk.

Back no damn good for ride.

No ketchum gol' long time now." Casey took a chew of tobacco.

This was getting to the point he had been aiming for, and he needed his wits working at top speed.
"Well, if you got a gold mine, you can eat jam all the time.

Drink whisky, too," he added, hushing his conscience peremptorily.