Is you prepared to compensate me for that there hog? Do what? Pay me. Pay ye. Now you got it right. Harrogate was still standing astraddle the deceased animal and now he unstood himself from over it and wiped his bloody hands down the side of his trouserlegs and looked up at the owner. How much? he said. Ten dollar. Ten dollar? It’d of brung ever cent of it. I aint got no ten dollars. Then I reckon you’ll have to work it out. Work it out? Work. It’s how most folks gets they livin. Them what aint prowlin other folks’ hogpens. What if I dont? I’ll law ye. Oh.
