"Sure ye do," nervously smiled Slim, frightened out of a heart-solo
as he returned to his surroundings.
"Well, then, listen to what I'm saying. I'm the big chief of the
village, and when I'm stimulated and happy them fellers I don't like
hides out and lets me and Nature operate things. Ain't that right?"
He glared inquiringly at his friends.
Red, the proprietor, explained over the bar in a whisper to Captain,
the new man from Dawson: "That's Big George, the whaler. He's a
squaw-man and sort of a bully--see? When he's sober he's on the
level strickly, an' we all likes him fine, but when he gets to
fightin' the pain-killer, he ain't altogether a gentleman. Will he
fight? Oh! Will he fight? Say! he's there with chimes, he is!
Why, Doc Miller's made a grub-stake rebuildin' fellers that's had a
lingerin' doubt cached away about that, an' now when he gets the
booze up his nose them patched-up guys oozes away an' hibernates till
the gas dies out in him. Afterwards he's sore on himself an'
apologizes to everybody.
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