text_original: Outside the storm continued, fine snow sifting down rapidly. "Pikepole Pete" found stiff work facing it, and bent low over the red roan's neck. "Blue blazes!" he muttered. "Bennett's a good fellow all right, and he's hurt; but if he hadn't nigh saved my life twice he could get this critter back himself fer all of me!"
text_transcription: OUTSIDE THE STORM CONTINUED FINE SNOW SIFTING DOWN RAPIDLY PIKE POLE PETE FOUND STIFF WORK FACING IT AND BENT LOW OVER THE RED ROAN'S NECK BLUE BLAZES HE MUTTERED BENNET'S A GOOD FELLER ALL RIGHT AND HE'S HURT BUT IF HE HAIN'T NIGH SAVED MY LIFE TWICE HE COULD GET THIS CRITTER BACK HIMSELF FOR ALL OF ME
phonemes: aʊtsˈaɪd ðə stˈɔːɹm kəntˈɪnjuːd, fˈaɪn snˈoʊ sˈɪftɪŋ dˌaʊn ɹˈæpɪdli. "pˈaɪkpoʊl pˈiːt" fˈaʊnd stˈɪf wˈɜːk fˈeɪsɪŋ ɪt, ænd bˈɛnt lˈoʊ ˌoʊvɚ ðə ɹˈɛd ɹˈoʊnz nˈɛk. "blˈuː blˈeɪzᵻz!" hiː mˈʌɾɚd. "bˈɛnɪts ɐ ɡˈʊd fˈɛloʊ ˈɔːl ɹˈaɪt, ænd hiːz hˈɜːt; bˌʌt ɪf hiː hˈædənt nˈaɪ sˈeɪvd maɪ lˈaɪf twˈaɪs hiː kʊd ɡɛt ðɪs kɹˈɪɾɚ bˈæk hɪmsˈɛlf fˈɜːɹ ˈɔːl ʌv mˌiː!"