At the sight of Peck's extremity drawing into the sanctuary of the door, Tippie strained his breath through his teeth, making a sound similar to that produced by certain gross feeders when eating juicy fruit. It was meant to express Tippie's stunned condition of amazement, which purpose it answered very well.
"That's him!" Tippie said.
"I'd know that foot if I saw it stickin' out of a mud-hole," Rawlins agreed, immediately forced to close up his face and hold it buckled tight to keep in the laughter that was beating against his teeth.
"He didn't need no horse, he can outrun any horse on the range," Tippie declared, but not as a man giving credit where credit was due.
"He's a wind-splitter, all right," Rawlins said. "He can run like an Arkansaw hog. What's next?"
"I'll show him if I can git him out of that house!"
"Mrs. Duke's likely to give him his walkin' papers, don't you think?"
"No, somehow I don't. She wants that girl married off, she's itchin' to git her off of her hands."
"It oughtn't be much trouble, with all that money," said Rawlins. They were riding slowly toward the house.
