"I sure ride down like hell.

I care not for break my neck, when you want big 'punch' in picture.

You tell me be homely old squaw like Mrs.Ghost-Dog, I be homely so dogs yell to look on me.

I mind you plenty--but I do not go by reservation no more." "Yow father be mad--I let you stay, he maybe shoot me," Luck argued, secretly flattered by her persistence.
Annie-Many-Ponies smiled,--a slow, sphinx-like smile, mysteriously sweet and lingering.

"Nah! Not shoot you.