Bert gives me the willies the way he's always lookin' for trouble.

There ain't no sense in it." "And I wouldn't give a snap of my fingers for a man without fighting spirit," Saxon answered.

"Why, we wouldn't be here to-day if it wasn't for the fighting spirit of our people before us." "You've got the real goods of a fighter in Billy," Bert assured her; "a yard long and a yard wide and genuine A Number One, long-fleeced wool.
Billy's a Mohegan with a scalp-lock, that's what he is.

And when he gets his mad up it's a case of get out from under or something will fall on you--hard." "Just like that," Mary added.
Billy, who had taken no part in the conversation, got up, glanced into the bedroom off the kitchen, went into the parlor and the bedroom off the parlor, then returned and stood gazing with puzzled brows into the kitchen bedroom.
"What's eatin' you, old man," Bert queried.

"You look as though you'd lost something or was markin' a three-way ticket.