“Well, sure,” Buck said. “But—”

“God-dang it!” Ken said. “Shut up when I’m talking! What the hell’s wrong with you, anyways? Here I go an’ tell Nick what a smart fella you are, and god-dang if you don’t make a liar out of me right in front of him!”

Buck got kind of red in the face, and said he was sure sorry. He sure hadn’t meant to contradict Ken. “I can see just how it happened, now that you explained it to me. This fella, he probably says to the pig, ‘How about a little you-know-what, Piggie?’ and the pig started squealing and twitchin’ her tail, meanin’ she was ready whenever he was.”

“O’ course, that’s the way it happened!” Ken scowled. “So what’d you mean by disputin’ me? Why for was you telling me he couldn’t have had the pig’s consent, and making a god-danged idjit out of yourself in front of a visitin’ sheriff? I tell you somethin’, Buck,” Ken went on, “I was entertainin’ some pret-ty high hopes for you. Almost had me convinced you was a white man with good sense instead of one of these big-mouth smart-alecks. But now I don’t know; I purely don’t know. ‘Bout all I can say is you shore better watch your step from now on.”

“I shore will. I’m shore sorry, Ken,” Buck said.

“I mean it! I mean every god-danged word of it!” Ken frowned at him. “You ever go disputin’ or contradictin’ me again, an’ you’ll be out in the street scratching horse turds with the sparrows. Or maybe you think you won’t be, huh? Maybe you’re gonna start arguin’ again, tellin’ me you won’t be out fighting them birds for turds? Answer me, you goddanged liver-lipped idjit!”

Buck sort of choked for a moment, and then he said of course Ken was right. “You say the word, Ken, an’ that’s pre-zackly what I’d be doin’.”

“Doin’ what? Speak up, god-dang it!”

“S-Scratchin’ “—Buck choked again—“scratchin’ horse turds with the sparrers.”

“The hot, steamy kind, right? Right?”

“Right,” Buck mumbled. “You’re a thousand per cent right, Ken. I-I reckon there ain’t nothin’ less appetizin’ than a cold horse turd.”

“Well, all right, then,” Ken said, easing up on him and turning to me. “Nick, I reckon you didn’t come all the way up here to hear me an’ old stupid Buck jibberjabberin’ at each other. ‘Pears to me like you got plenty of troubles of your own.”

“Well, sir, you’re sure right about that, Ken,” I said. “You purely are, an’ that’s a fact.”

“And you’re wantin’ my advice, right? You ain’t like some smart-alecks that think they already know everthing.”

“Yes, sir,” I said. “I sure do want your advice, Ken.”

“Uh-hah?” he nodded. “Uh-hah. Go right ahead, Nick.”

“Well, it’s like this,” I said. “I got this here problem that’s been driving me plumb out of my mind. Couldn’t hardly sleep nor eat it’s been pesterin’ me so much. So I fretted and studied an’ I thought and I thought, and finally I came to a decision.”