Stutter yere is a-takin' up with Greasers, an' Mike with Swedes.

I reckon I 'll have ter be lookin' round fer an Injun, er else play a lone hand purty soon." Brown, his freckled face hotly flushed, his eyes grown hard, struck the rock with clinched hand.
"D-d-damn you, B-Bill," he stuttered desperately, his great chest heaving.

"I-I 've had jist 'nough o' th-th-thet sorter talk.

Yer s-s-spit out 'nuther word 'bout her, an' th-th-thar 'll be somethin' e-else a-doin'." Old Hicks laughed, his gray goat-beard waggling, yet it was clearly evident he appreciated the temper of his partner, and realized the limit of patience.
"Oh, I 'll pass," he confessed genially.

"Lord! I hed a touch o' that same disease oncet myself.