"Time," said the other. "Time flies; an' I've had these flies all th' time. It's time they flies away, to fly back another day. You leave yours behind you, Cow Face, if you visit me." "Ain't got none; an' ain't seen none," replied Luke cheerfully. "Twice a liar," observed Johnny pleasantly. "Why don't you learn to speak th' truth sometimes? I'm worried about yore soul." "I'm worried about my belly an' my knees. They're scraped clean, wrigglin' over rock." "'Tain't possible; not at yore age," commented Johnny. "Th' accumulations of years can't be got rid of so easy, Old Timer." "No wonder they chased him off th' Tin Cup," grinned Luke. "We are two ijuts." "Listen to th' jackass," said Johnny. "Th' flies that flew an' flied; th' flies that crawled an' died; th' flies that buzzed an'--an'--holy h--l! Did you _ever_ see so many of 'em?" "I done listened to th' jackass," grunted Luke. "An' now I observes, gentle but firm: We are two ijuts." "We are one _ijut_," corrected Johnny. "You are th' one. A soft answer turneth away wrath." "I am an ijut; an' you are an ijut," replied Luke with exaggerated patience. "That makes two; an' so we are _two_ ijuts." "Can't you say nothin' else, One Ijut?" demanded Johnny peevishly. "Yo're tiresome; yo're a repeater, rim fire, Chestnut, model of 1873. I'm lazy by nature; but doin' nothin' _all_ th' time is hard work. It don't set right. They have taken her to Georgia, there to wear her life away. An' my neck aches from lookin' up, an' holdin' my head out on th' end of it. My stummick an' my elbows, my knees an' my toes all, all ache. They are rock-galled. As she toils 'mid th' cotton an' th' corn." "Cane," corrected Luke. "Yore appalin' ignerence is discouragin'. We are two ijuts." "All right; I quit," said Johnny wearily. "Have it yore own way; mebby we are. But it could 'a' been corn just as well as cane, anyhow. Why are we two ijuts?" "Because we are holdin' th' bag," said Luke sadly. Johnny turned around and stuck his head out. "Yes?" he inquired, with a rising inflection. "I'm plumb insulted. I ain't never held no bag; not never!" "'Tain't never too late to learn," said Luke sorrowfully. "Th' snipe has come, an' went; an' we're _still_ holdin' th' bag." "Let's fill it full of flies," suggested Johnny. "Say! If you ain't seen no flies, how did all of them get squashed on yore face?" "Come flyin' out of yore cave just now an' bumped into me full speed," replied Luke, grinning. "We have been out-guessed, we have. They smelled us out. We're two tenderfeet in a wild, bad camp. Somebody's likely to hurt us, first thing you know. What did you see when you wasn't killin' flies?" "Th' sky, th' canyon, an' th' butte." "Uh-huh; so did I. I saw th' butte, th' canyon, an' th' sky. Then I moved an' saw hand prints, belly prints, toe prints, knee prints, an' other kinds of prints. Yore friends stacked th' deck on us an' dealt 'em from th' middle. Now what?"