text_original: Tom swore. "We've got but the ten rounds," he said, dropping his rifle to his knee. "I reckon 'tis no use to waste it." "The Willing may come to night," I answered.
text_transcription: TOM SWORE WE'VE GOT BUT THE TEN ROUNDS HE SAID DROPPING HIS RIFLE TO HIS KNEE I RECKON TIS NO USE TO WASTE IT THE WILLING MAY COME TO NIGHT I ANSWERED
phonemes: tˈɑːm swˈɔːɹ. "wiːv ɡɑːt bˌʌt ðə tˈɛn ɹˈaʊndz," hiː sˈɛd, dɹˈɑːpɪŋ hɪz ɹˈaɪfəl tə hɪz nˈiː. "aɪ ɹˈɛkən tˈɪz nˈoʊ jˈuːs tə wˈeɪst ɪt." "ðə wˈɪlɪŋ mˈeɪ kˈʌm tə nˈaɪt," aɪ ˈænsɚd.