I was sore," he admitted, goggling Happy Jack earnestly, "but I kep' a-goin'.
I was right in fall roundup, an' I had to.

A man can't lay down an' cry, by cripes, jes' because he gets pinked a little--" "Aw, that's jest because--it ain't you.

I betche you'd lay 'em down--jest like other folks, if yuh got shot--through the lungs.

That ain't no--joke, lemme tell yuh!" Happy Jack was beginning to show considerable spirit for a wounded man.

So much spirit that Andy Green, who had seen men stricken down with various ills, read fever signs in the countenance and in the voice of Happy, and led Big Medicine somewhat peremptorily out of ear-shot.
"Ain't you got any sense ?" he inquired with fine candor.