Here We Go

"It’s a’comin hard now, I think. It’s just over yonder, past them trees. Round that rock, over that hill, Gamut. Gotta slow down fer the curve before the trestle."

"I know, I know."

"Let the engine go by now—that’s right. Okay, let’s go! Run, Gamut! Hurry now. Don’t stop, Gamut! Don’t drag yer boots, jump, man, jump! Up yerself aboard the jolly boxcar for our hobo ride to glory, man! We’re bound for glory—whoa! D’ya hear them drums? D’ya hear ‘em, Gamut?"

"Ow! Got m’dang spurs caught!" Gamut yelled. He caught one hand on the handle but tripped over on his back and dragged along over the rocks and brush.

"Gamut, I swear you’re the floppingest flipper I ever—git on up here! H’yar ya go, I’ll grab hold of yer belt and hoist ya up, ya damn girl. There. There y’are."

"Oww! m’arrm, m’arrm--!" Gamut whinnied and whined.

"Quitcher sqealin, y’ain’t bleedin or bonebroke, are ya?"

"M’arrm—like to twist right off, it did. N’that’s a fact. This’n’s a gonner. Gonna fall right off my body, it will."

"Gamut, yer the goldangest sissy I ever—Gamut, yer--."

"An it might not last another minute, nossir, might not—whew!--."

Furd took a look.

"Well, might, though, might. Hard t’say. Might."

Shortly thereafter the arm fell with a plop, bounced once off the boxcar floor, and flew out the door, waving goodbye.

“M’arrm’s gone,” Gamut complained. “Told ya it wouldn’t work no more.”

“Now goldern it, there ya go agin, Gamut, bein’ negative. Ya still got yer other one don’t’cha?” Don’t really need both of em, really--.”

"Psst! Hear that? D’ya hear?—ssst! Someone’s comin. I hear em on the roof. Jump, Furd! Aarrrr…!"

"Wait, hold on! T’aint nothin but a coupla rocks just fell offen a--."

Gamut jumped.

“Aw no, aw no!, now just look there at what’cha done, Gamut. Where’d ya go, man? Ya dern fool. Ya dern fool. Aw, Gamut--."