Don't bet!" "What the hell!" surprise jolted out of Jerry.
"It's my funeral," Bud laughed.

"I'm a chancey kid, you see--but I'd hate to see you bet on me." He pulled up to watch the next race--four nervy little cow-horses of true range breeding, going down to the quarter post.
"They 're going to make false starts aplenty," Bud remarked after the first fluke.

"Jeff and I have it out next.

I'll just give Smoke another treatment." He dismounted, looked at Jerry undecidedly and slapped him on the knee.

"I'm glad to have a friend like you," he said impulsively.
"There's a lot of two-faced sinners around here that would steal a man blind.