I was scared it was
vi'lets and 'Gather at the River,' without the melodeum, for him. But
you never see a fella get such a chest! Search me if I knows where he
got it from, for he wasn't much bigger around in the works than a
mosquito when I took him up there. And eat! My Gosh, he can eat! And a
complexion like a Yaqui. And he can sleep longer and harder and louder
than a corral of gradin' mules on Saturday night! 'Course he's slim
yet, but it's the kind of slim like rawhide that you could hobble a
elephant with. And, say, he's a pardner on your life! Believe me, and
I'm listenin' to myself, too."
"His lungs are better, then?"
"Lungs? He ain't got none. They're belluses--prime California skirtin'
leather off the back. Lady, that kid is a wonder."
"I'm awfully glad Billy is better. He _must_ be, judging from what you
tell me."
"I wisht I'd 'a' had him runnin' the 'Guzzuh' instead of that little
chicken-breasted chaffer they three-shelled on to me in Los Angeles. I
hired him because they said I 'd better take him along until I was some
better acquainted with the machine. The Guzzuh ain't no ordinary
bronc'."
"The 'Guzzuh'?" queried Dr. Marshall.
"Uhuh. That's what I christened her.
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