Frenchy came out of the cabin and smiled at his friends.

Swinging in his left hand was a newly filled Colt's .45, which was recognized by his friends as the one found in the cabin and it bore a rough "T" gouged in the butt.
Buck looked around and cleared his throat: "We've got th' cows on th' home trail, Frenchy," he suggested.
"Yas ?" Inquired Frenchy.

"Are there many ?" "Yas," replied Buck, waving his hand at the guards, ordering them to follow their friends.

"It's a good deal for us: we've done right smart this hand.

An' it's a good thing we've got so many punchers: we got a lot of cattle to drive." "About five times th' size of th' herd that blamed near made angels out'en me an' yu," responded Frenchy with a smile.
"I hope almighty hard that we don't have no stampedes on this here drive.