I know the ropes. If she thinks she can come to St. Joe and run any of this big boss stuff on me, let her try it. I'd stitch her ears to the back of her neck. You can tell her I said so, too."
"I'll leave it to you," said Rawlins. He got up, reaching into his pocket for his pipe.
"Well, I'm goin' to fly up," Peck announced. "I'm goin' to hit the road early in the morning, then I'll have to lay out one night before I git to Jasper, I guess, won't I? Well, that won't be anything new; I've been sleepin' out like a wolf for three weeks. I tell you, Rawlins, little old St. Joe never looked as good to me as it does right now."
"I never was there," said Rawlins, indifferent to the charms of that town, which pulled so hard on Peck from afar.
"And if I ever marry any more, it won't be a woman that's got sheep on the brain," Peck said, so solemnly that he seemed to be taking an oath. "If I find out she even likes mutton chops before I marry her, it's all off. Well, so long, Rawlins. About four days more and I'll be in the old town once more."
"I wish you luck," said Rawlins, perfunctorily, not caring very much how or where Peck's adventure ended.
