If she's a good looker we'll see if she don't change her verdict about cowboys." "Who will?
You don't call yourself one, do yuh ?" Pink flung at him quickly.
"Well, that depends; I know I ain't any LADY broncho--hey, cut it out!" This last because of half a biscuit aimed accurately at the middle of his face.

If you want to know why, search out the history of a certain War Bonnet Roundup, wherein Pink rashly impersonated a lady broncho-fighter.
"Wher'e they going to live when they git here ?" asked Happy Jack, reverting to the subject of dry farmers.
"Close enough so you can holler from here to their back door, my boy--if they have their say about it," Andy assured him cheerfully.

Andy felt that he could afford to be facetious now that he had Chip and Weary on his side.
"Aw, gwan! I betche there ain't a word of truth in all that scarey talk," Happy Jack fleered heavily.
"Name your bet.

I'll take it." Andy filled his mouth with hot biscuit and stirred up the sugar in his coffee like a man who is occupied chiefly with the joys of the table.
"Aw, you ain't going to git me that way agin," Happy Jack declared.
"They's some ketch to it." "There sure is, Happy.

The biggest ketch you ever seen in your life.
It's ketch the Flying U outfit and squeeze the life out of it; that's the ketch." Andy's tone had in it no banter, but considerable earnestness.