text_original: "We set out to hunt a fight, and my pluck is to clean up. We ain't finished 'em yet." The man had a deep, coarse voice that was a piece with his roughness. "I reckon this band ain't a goin' to harry the station any more, McGary," cried Cowan. "By Job, what did we come out for? Who'll take the trail with me?"
text_transcription: WE SET OUT TO HUNT A FIGHT AND MY PLUCK IS TO CLEAN UP WE AIN'T FINISHED EM YET THE MAN HAD A DEEP COARSE VOICE THAT WAS A PIECE WITH HIS ROUGHNESS I RECKON THIS MAN AIN'T A GOIN TO HARRY THE STATION ANY MORE M'GARRY CRIED CALHOUN BY JOVE WHAT DID WE COME OUT FOR WHO'LL TAKE THE TRAIL WITH ME
phonemes: "wiː sˈɛt ˈaʊt tə hˈʌnt ɐ fˈaɪt, ænd maɪ plˈʌk ɪz tə klˈiːn ˈʌp. wiː ˈeɪnt fˈɪnɪʃt ˈɛm jˈɛt." ðə mˈæn hæd ɐ dˈiːp, kˈɔːɹs vˈɔɪs ðæt wʌzɐ pˈiːs wɪð hɪz ɹˈʌfnəs. "aɪ ɹˈɛkən ðɪs bˈænd ˈeɪnt ɐ ɡˌoʊɪn tə hˈæɹi ðə stˈeɪʃən ˌɛni mˈɔːɹ, mə ɡˈæɹi," kɹˈaɪd kˈaʊən. "baɪ dʒˈɑːb, wˌʌt dˈɪd wiː kˈʌm ˈaʊt fɔːɹ? hˌuːəl tˈeɪk ðə tɹˈeɪl wɪð mˌiː?"