When Bud had picked himself up and run to the stairway, he could hear
the fellow clattering down the stairs three flights below.
"Well, dash my hopes," said Bud, "if he didn't get clear away. He shore
treated me like a leetle boy. But I reckon he's in sech a hurry because
he's on his way ter a drug store fer a porious plaster fer them ribs o'
hisn."
Ted had picked himself up and was rubbing his arm, which had been
strained by his falling on it.
"What's this yere all erbout?" asked Bud. "I'm comin' up ter call on yer
when I hears yer blat, an' I come runnin', an' what do I see? A large,
pale stranger erbout ter explore yer system with er bowie. Yer mixin' in
sassiety quicker'n usual, seems ter me."
Ted had picked up the knife, which had fallen beneath the bed, and was
looking at it.
"I wonder where this came from," he said, turning it over in his hand.
"Wherever it came from, it's a wicked-lookin' cuss," said Bud. "But what
wuz ther feller goin' ter explore yer with it fer?"
"This letter," said Ted, taking the crumpled paper from his pocket and
handing it to Bud.
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