I'd a found your horse today, all right--but I guess Andy could find him quicker.

Us punchers'll take care of you, all right." The rabbit-leg sagged to the coals and began to scorch, and the Kid lifted it startled and was grateful when Miss Allen did not seem to have seen the accident.
"I'd a killed a rabbit for you," he explained, "only I didn't have no gun or no matches so I couldn't.

When I'm ten my Daddy Chip is going to give me a gun.

And then if you get lost I can take care of you like Andy can.

I'll be ten next week, I guess." He turned as Andy came back slicing off the branches of a willow the size of his thumb.
"Say, old-timer, where's the rest of the bunch ?" he inquired casually.
"Did you git your cattle rounded up ?" "Not yet." Andy sharpened the prongs of his stick and carefully impaled the back of the rabbit.
"Well, I'll help you out.