“Well, ‘s I wuz sayin’, we wuz on this stunt, an’ had been out all o’ three month, takin’ turns cookin’ an’ watchin’ so’s one o’ us could git erway from ther other fer a spell, an’ go off an’ sit down an’ tell hisself what a awful chump ther other wuz, an’ how yer hated him.

“We hed a chuck wagon with us filled with flour, salt sowbelly an’ saleratus, with some coffee an’ a few pounds o’ fine terbaccer fer makin’ cigareets.  I ain’t sayin’ nothin’ erginst sowbelly ez ther national food o’ ther plains an’ ther staff o’ life in farmin’ communities, but ez a steady diet it begins ter pall when taken day in an’ day out with nothin’ ter wash it down with but weak coffee made outer alkali water.

“I reckon both me an’ Peep wuz gittin’ tired o’ one another’s cookin’, if ther truth wuz knowed, fer Peep could make ther wust biscuit I ever et.

“My biscuit jest suited me ter a ty-ty, an’ I reckon Peep felt ther same way erbout hisn.  Every time we set down ter vittles, if it wuz my week ter cook, Peep w’d begin ter talk o’ ther fine cookin’ his wife uster do before she run erway with er Sant’ Fe conductor down ter Raton, Noo Mex.  He’d tell me how she’d make beef stoo an’ hot biscuit thet would melt in yer mouth.  ‘I don’t like them kind,’ sez I, one day.  ‘I like somethin’ I kin chew on.  What’d ther Lord give us teeth fer if grub is ter melt in ther mouth?  No, sir; give me mine gristle an’ hide.  Ther tougher they be ther better I like ’em,’ sez I.

“‘Is thet thar meant ez a reflection on my wife?’ sez Peep, bristlin’ up.

“‘I never met yer wife,’ sez I, ‘an’ we’ll let thet part o’ it pass, fer ye knows me well enough thet I never make no remarks erbout wimminfolks what ain’t smooth an’ complimentary.  But I stands on ther gristle-an’-hide propersition ontil I’m ready ter fight fer it.’

“Yer see, I wuz gettin’ some peevish erbout Peep.  Ole man Bradish hed left us alone tergether too long.  It ain’t right fer two fellers ter camp side by each fer so long without a third party buttin’ in ter break ther monotony.

“‘All right,’ sez he, unlimberin’ his six foot three o’ len’th from ther ground.  ‘Thet,’ sez he, real dignified, ’is either a challenge or a invitation ter fight.’

“‘It be,’ sez I.  ‘Either way yer wanter take it.’

“We both riz up.

“‘How d’yer want it?’ sez he.

“‘Please yerself,’ sez I.  ‘Any ole holt is my fav’rite.’

“‘Anythin’ goes, then,’ sez he, makin’ a rush at me.

“Jest then we hear a turrible noise, gruntin’, squealin’, an’ sich.  We both stopped an’ looked eround, an’ thar stood watchin’ us a big band o’ wild hawgs.

“‘Fresh meat!’ we both hollers simultaneous.  At this ther hawgs ups an’ runs.

“It wuz my day off, an’ hostilities stopped right thar ez I runs an’ gits my rifle an’ leaps my cayuse an’ takes after ther hawgs, Peep hollerin’ after me ez friendly ez yer please.