Then, more tranquillised, he continues deciphering the chirography of his companion to the end; when a second shout terminates the effort.
"Saved by a angel!" he says, muttering to himself.

"A angel on the Staked Plain! Whar can the critter hev come from?
No matter whar.
Thar's been one hyar, for sartin.

Darn me ef I don't smell the sweet o' her pettikotes now! This piece o' paper--'t ain't Frank's.

I knows he hedn't a scrap about him.

No.