It all seemed unreal--a hideous dream--the gloom, the moan of the wind, the weird solitude, and this rustler with hand and will like cold steel.
"We'd come back to Greaves's store," Colter began.

"An' as Greaves was daid we all got free with his liquor.

Shore some of us got drunk.
Bruce was drunk, an' Tad in there--he was drunk.

Your dad put away more 'n I ever seen him.

But shore he wasn't exactly drunk.