“Don't try hit, Tex," wuz whut he said;
"Why: yo're only a right young lad.
If I hed tuh smoke up on a boy,
Hit would shore make me feel bad. ,
“A thousand gold is a heap, jest now,
But I aint a gettin’ mine thet way.
Yo‘re safe with me, if yo' want a job;
An' I hope thet yo’ll want tuh stay.“
I wuz a ridin' with him when he got his;
We wuz trailin' a ruetlin’ gang,
when suddintly, they cut hell loose.
The slugs shore whined an' sang.
I fought like hell an' brought him in,
In the night when they couldn't see.
Hit wuz the night thet I told yo' of,
when he turned the ranch tuh me.
I want tuh tell yo' thet I love yo', Nell;
Thet’s a part of my story, too;
But hit aint a part thet yo' must take
with the ranch thet I turn tuh yo'.
I owed yore Dad the years I gave.
Tuh my bargain I hev been true.
Hit's only a part of the life I hev,
An' am willin' tuh give tuh yo'.
I’ve heered yo' say: “I love yo', Tex.“
Soon yore Dad frum the Great Corral
Will come tuh the ropin’ at Laramie
Of Tex an' the Sheriff's gal.