"
"Well, didn't yer jest call me a goat?"
"Yes, but--"
"Then sit down an' git back ter yer love story; we're square. Nothin' is
lost on both sides. But callin' me a goat don't make me sore none. I
jest dote on goats. If I wasn't jest what I am, I'd sooner be a goat
than a collidge gradooate."
"I've heard about enough, if you're alluding to me."
"Take it er leave it. But, ez I wuz goin' ter say before my conversation
was cut inter by a loud an' empty noise, speakin' o' goats reminds me o'
a time down on ther Pecos--"
"By Jove! I'm going to ask the conductor to move me into another car.
This is too much. I might, perhaps, stand for being called a phillaloo,
but I swear I'll not be compelled to stay here and listen to one of
those silly and impossible stories of this insane cow-puncher."
At first some of the passengers thought that Bud and Ben were really
angry at one another, but the wise ones soon saw that it was all bluff,
as, of course, the broncho boys knew.
But it was very real to Dick Fosdick, who had yet many things to learn
about the boys and their ways, and while the little chap was far too
clever naturally to show his feelings, he sided with Bud, and thought
that Ben was very unreasonable, especially as the boys, and some of the
passengers, had flocked around Bud, who appeared not to notice them.
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