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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/29485-8.txt b/29485-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c02e486 --- /dev/null +++ b/29485-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8150 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Faro Nell and Her Friends, by Alfred Henry Lewis + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Faro Nell and Her Friends + Wolfville Stories + +Author: Alfred Henry Lewis + +Illustrator: W. Herbert Dunton + J. N. Marchand + +Release Date: July 22, 2009 [EBook #29485] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FARO NELL AND HER FRIENDS *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +[Illustration: WE MAKES FOUR TRIPS BACK AND FORTH BETWEEN WOLFVILLE AND +RED DOG, CRACKIN' OFF OUR GOOD OLD '45'S AT IRREG'LAR INTERVALS, FARO +NELL ON HER CALICO PONY AS THE GODDESS OF LIBERTY, BUSTIN' AWAY WITH THE +REST. Frontispiece. p. 170.] + + + + +FARO NELL AND HER FRIENDS + +WOLFVILLE STORIES + +BY + +ALFRED HENRY LEWIS + +AUTHOR OF "WOLFVILLE," "WOLFVILLE DAYS," "WOLFVILLE NIGHTS," "WOLFVILLE +FOLKS," "THE BOSS," "THE SUNSET TRAIL," "THE APACHES OF +NEW YORK," "THE STORY OF PAUL JONES," ETC. + +ILLUSTRATIONS BY + +W. HERBERT DUNTON AND J. N. MARCHAND + +G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY + +PUBLISHERS NEW YORK + + + + +Copyright, 1913, By + +G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY + +Faro Nell and Her Friends + + + + +THIS BOOK + +IS DEDICATED TO + +WILLIAM EUGENE LEWIS + +AS MARKING + +MY APPRECIATION OF + +WHAT QUALITIES PLACE HIM HIGH + +AMONG THE BEST EDITORS + +BEST BROTHERS AND BEST MEN + +I'VE EVER MET + +A. H. L. + + + + +CONTENTS + + CHAPTER PAGE + I DEAD SHOT BAKER 7 + II OLD MAN ENRIGHT'S UNCLE 39 + III CYNTHIANA, PET-NAMED ORIGINAL SIN 61 + IV OLD MONTE, OFFICIAL DRUNKARD 99 + V HOW THE MOCKING BIRD WAS WON 126 + VI THAT WOLFVILLE-RED DOG FOURTH 148 + VII PROPRIETY PRATT, HYPNOTIST 176 + VIII THAT TURNER PERSON 198 + IX RED MIKE 225 + X HOW TUTT SHOT TEXAS THOMPSON 260 + XI THE FUNERAL OF OLD HOLT 295 + XII SPELLING BOOK BEN 320 + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + PAGE + We makes four trips back and forth between Wolfville and Red + Dog, crackin' off our good old '45's at irreg'lar + intervals, Faro Nell on her calico pony as the Goddess of + Liberty, bustin' away with the rest. . . . Frontispiece 170 + We're all discussin' the doin's of this yere road-agent when + Dan gets back from Red-Dog, an' the result is he unloads + his findin's on a dead kyard. 18 + Dead Shot stops short at this hitch in the discussion, by + reason of a bullet from the Lightin' Bug's pistol which + lodges in his lung. 28 + The second evening Old Stallins is with us, Dan Boggs an' + Texas Thompson uplifts his aged sperits with the "Love + Dance of the Catamounts." 42 + "It's you, Oscar, that I want," observes Miss Bark. "I + concloodes, upon sober second thought, to accept your + offer of marriage." 90 + A couple of Enright's riders comes a packin' a live bobcat + into town. 118 + Turkey Track, seein' he's afoot an' thirty miles from his home + ranch pulls his gun an' sticks up the mockin' bird's + buckboard. 138 + We sees the Turner person aboard an' wishes him all kinds of + luck. 222 + "What's the subject?" Peets asks. "That, my friend, is the + 'Linden in October,'" returns Mike, as though he's a + showin' us a picture of Heaven's front gate. 238 + "Him an' Annalinda shore do constitoote a picture. 'Thar's a + pa'r to draw to,' says Nell to Texas, her eyes like brown + diamonds." 280 + Thar's a bombardment which sounds like a battery of gatlings, + the whole punctchooated by a whirlwind of "whoops!" 316 + "Onless girls is barred," declares Faro Nell, from her perch + on the chair "I've a notion to take a hand." 336 + + + + +FARO NELL AND HER FRIENDS + + + + +I + +DEAD SHOT BAKER + + +"Which you never knows Dead Shot Baker?" + +This, from the old cattleman, with a questioning glance my way. + +"No? Well, you shore misses knowin' a man! Still, it ain't none so +strange neither; even Wolfville's acquaintance with Dead Shot's only +what you-all might call casyooal, him not personally lastin' more'n +three months. + +"This yere Dead Shot has a wife. Thar's women you don't want to see +ontil you're tired, an' women you don't want to see ontil you're +rested, an' women you don't want to see no how--don't want to see at +all. This wife of Dead Shot's belongs with the latter bunch. + +"Last evenin' I'm readin' whar one of them philosophic sports asserts +that women, that a-way, is shore the sublimation of the oncertain. +That's how he lays it down; an' he never hedges the bluff for so much +as a single chip. He insists that you can't put a bet on women; that +you can bet on hosses or kyards or 'lections, but not on women--women +bein' too plumb oncertain. As I reads along, I can't he'p feelin' that +somehow this philosophic party must have knowed Dead Shot's wife. + +"The first time we-all ever sees Dead Shot, he comes trackin' into the +Red Light one evenin' jest after the stage rolls up. Bein' it's +encroachin' on second drink time, he sidles up to the bar; an' then, +his manner some diffident an' apol'getic, he says: + +"'Gents, do you-all feel like a little licker, that a-way?' + +"It bein' imp'lite to reefuse, we assembles within strikin' distance +of the bottles Black Jack is slammin' the len'th of the counter, an' +begins spillin' out our forty drops. At this he turns even more +apol'getic. + +"'Which I trusts,' he says, 'that no one'll mind much if I takes +water?' + +"Of course no one minds. Wolfville don't make no speshulty of forcin' +whiskey onto no gent who's disinclined. If they prefers water, we +encourages 'em. + +"'An' for this yere reason,' expounds Boggs, once when he ondertakes +to explain the public attitoode towards water to some inquirin' +tenderfoot--'an' for this partic'lar reason: Arizona is a dry an' arid +clime; an' water drinkers bein' a cur'ous rarity, we admires to keep a +spec'men or two buck-jumpin' about, so's to study their habits.' + +"As we picks up our glasses, Dead Shot sets to introdoocin' himse'f. + +"'My name, gents,' he says, 'is Baker, Abner Baker. The Wells-Fargo +folks sends me down yere from Santa Fe to ride shotgun for 'em.' + +"The name's plenty s'fficient. It's him who goes to a showdown with +them three road agents who lays for the stage over in a spur of the +Black Range back of San Marcial, an' hives the three. That battle +saves the company $200,000; an', they're that pleased with Dead Shot's +industry, they skins the company's bankroll for a bundle of money the +size of a roll of blankets, an' gives it to him by way of reward. +It's the talk of the two territories. + +"While we-all knows Dead Shot when he speaks his name, none of us lets +on. It's ag'inst ettiquette in the southwest to know more of a gent +than what he tells himse'f. + +"'So water's all you samples?' puts in Texas Thompson, as we stands +an' drinks. + +"'It's like this,' explains Dead Shot, appealin' round with his eye. +'You see I can't drink nosepaint none, an' drink successful.' + +"'Shore,' observes Faro Nell, who's takin' her diminyootive toddy +right at Dead Shot's elbow; 'thar's gents so organized that to go +givin' 'em licker is like tryin' to play a harp with a hammer.' + +"That's me,' exclaims Dead Shot; 'that's me, Miss, every time. Give me +a spoonful, an' I deemands a bar'l. After which, thar ain't no se'f +respectin' camp that'll stand for my game.' + +"'I savvys what you means,' says Tutt; 'I reecalls in my own case how, +on the hocks of mebby it's the ninth drink--which this is years an' +years ago, though--I mistakes a dem'crat primary for a Methodist +praise meetin', an' comes ramblin' in an' offers to lead in pra'r. +Which I carries the scars to this day.' + +"'Which is why, Dave,' interjecks Cherokee Hall, in hopes of settin' +Tutt to pitchin' on his p'litical rope, him bein' by nacher a +oncompromisin' reepublican that a-way--'which is why you always holds +dem'crats so low.' + +"'But I don't hold 'em low,' protests Tutt. 'Thar's heaps to be said +for dem'crats, leastwise for the sort that's pesterin' 'round in the +country I hails from.' + +"'What be your dem'crats like, Dave?' Texas urges. 'Which I wants to +see if they're same as the kind I cuts the trail of down about +Laredo.' + +"'Well,' returns Tutt, 'simply hittin' the high places, them dem'crats +by which I'm born surrounded chews tobacco, sw'ars profoosely, drinks +mighty exhaustive, hates niggers, an' some of 'em can read.' + +"'That deescription goes for Laredo, too,' Texas allows. 'This yere +jedge, who gives my wife her divorce that time, an' sets the sheriff +to sellin' up my steers for costs an' al'mony, is a dem'crat. What you +says, Dave, is the merest picture of that joorist.' + +"'I expects my wife'll come rackin' along _poco tiempo,'_ Dead Shot +remarks, after a pause. 'I'm yere as advance gyard to sling things +into shape.' + +"It's as good as a toone of music to see how softly his face lights +up. He's as big an' wide an' thick an' strong as Boggs, an' yet it's +plain as paint that this yere wife of his, whoever she is, can jest +nacherally make curl-papers of him. + +"That mention of a wife as usual sets Texas to growlin'. + +"'Thar you be, Dan!' I overhears him whisper, same as if he's been +ill-treated; 'the instant this Dead-Shot says "Water" I'm onto it that +he's a married man. Water an' matrimony goes hand in hand.' + +"'Now I don't see why none?' retorts Boggs. + +"'Because water's weakenin'. Feed a sport on water, an' it's a cinch +he falls a prey to the first female who ropes at him.' + +"'Thar's Dave,' Boggs argyoos, noddin' towards Tutt. 'Ain't he +drinkin' that time he weds Tucson Jennie?' + +"'Dave's the exception. Also, you-all remembers them circumstances, +Dan. Dave don't marry Jennie; Jennie simply ups an' has him.' + +"'All the same,' contends Boggs, 'I don't regyard Dead Shot's sobriety +as no drawback. Thar's lots of folks who's cap'ble of bein' sober an' +sociable at one an' the same time.' + +"These yere low-voiced wranglin's between Texas an' Boggs is off to +one side. Meanwhile, the gen'ral confab proceeds. + +"'You ain't been long hooked up?' says Doc Peets, addressin' Dead +Shot. + +"'About a year. She's in the stage that time I has the trouble with +them hold-ups in the Black Range, an' she allows she likes my style.' + +"'We-all hears about that Black Range battle,' remarks Enright. + +"'It's a mighty lucky play for me,' says Dead Shot; 'I don't ree'lize +it while I'm workin' my winchester, but I'm winnin' a angel all the +time. That's on the level, gents! I never puts my arm 'round her yet, +but what I go feelin' for wings.' + +"'Don't this make you sick?' Texas growls to Boggs. + +"'No, it don't,' Boggs replies. 'On the contrary, I'm teched.' + +"'Gents,' goes on Dead Shot, an' I sees his mustache tremble that +a-way; 'I don't mind confessin' she's that angelic I'm half afraid to +marry her. I ain't fine enough! It's like weddin' gunny-sack to +silk--me makin' her my wife. Which I shore has to think an' argyoo +with myse'f a whole lot, before I gets the courage. Ain't you-all ever +noticed'--yere he appeals 'round to Peets--'that every time you meets +up with a angel, thar's always some smoke-begrimed an' sin-encrusted +son of Satan workin' double-turn to support her?' + +"Peets nods. + +"'Shore! Well, it's sech reflections which final gives me the +reequired sand. An' so, one evenin' up in Albuquerque, we prances over +before a padre an' we're married. You bet, it's like a vision.' + +"'Any papooses?' asks Tutt, plumb pompous. + +"'None as yet,' confesses Dead Shot, lookin' abashed. + +"'Which I've nacherally got one,' an' yere Tutt swells. 'You can put +your case _peso_ on it he's the real thing, too.' + +"'Little Enright Peets is certainly a fine child,' remarks Nell. +'Dave, you're shore licensed to be proud of him.' + +"'That's whatever,' adds Boggs. 'Little Enright Peets is nothin' short +of bein' the No'th Star of all hoomanity!' + +"Mebby a week passes, an' one mornin' Dead Shot goes squanderin' over +to Tucson to bring his wife. An' nacherally we're on what they calls +in St. Looey the 'quee vee' to see her. At that, we-all don't crowd +'round permiscus when the stage arrives, an' we avoids everything +which borders on mob voylence. + +"Dead Shot hits the street, lookin' that happy it's like he's in a +dream, an' then goes feelin' about, soft an' solic'tous, inside. At +last he lifts her out, an' stands thar holdin' her in his arms. She's +shore beautiful; only she ain't no bigger 'n a ten year old youngone. +Yellow-ha'red an' bloo-eyed, she makes you think of these yere china +ornaments that's regyarded artistic by the Dutch. + +"They're certainly a contrast--him big as a house, her as small an' +pretty as a doll! An' you should see that enamored Dead Shot look at +her!--long an' deep, like a man drinkin'! Son, sometimes I fears +women, that a-way, misses all knowledge of how much they're loved. + +"'She ain't sick,' says Dead Shot, speakin' gen'ral; 'only she twists +her off ankle gettin' out at the last station.' + +"Dead Shot heads for the little 'dobe he's fitted up, packin' his +bloo-eyed doll in his arms. What's our impressions? No gent who signs +the books as sech'll say anything ag'in a lady; but between us, thar's +a sooperior wrinklin' of the little tipped-up nose, an' a cold feel to +them bloo eyes, which don't leave us plumb enthoosiastic. + +"'It's like this,' volunteers Enright, who stacks in to explain +things. 'Every gent's got his ideal; an' this yere wife of his is Dead +Shot's ideal.' + +"'Whatever's an ideal, Doc?' asks Boggs, who's always romancin' about +for information. + +"'Which an ideal, Dan,' Peets replies, 'is the partic'lar gold brick +you're tryin' to buy.' + +"At the time Dead Shot's standin' thar with his fam'ly in his arms, +Nell comes out on the Red Light steps to take a peek. Also, Missis +Rucker an' Tucson Jennie is hoverin' about all sim'lar. After Dead +Shot an' his bride has faded into their 'dobe, them three experts +holds a energetic consultation in the street. Of course, none of us +has the hardihood to go j'inin' in their deelib'rations, but from +what's said later we gets a slant at their concloosions. + +"'Dead Shot's a mighty sight too good for her,' is how Missis Rucker +gives jedgment. 'It's peltin' pigs with pearls for him to go lovin' +her like he does.' + +"Shore; bein' ladies that-a-way, Missis Rucker, Tucson Jennie an' Faro +Nell all visits Dead Shot's wife. But the feelin' is that they finds +her some stuck up an' haughty. This yere notion is upheld by Nell +callin' her a 'minx,' while Tucson Jennie alloodes to her as a 'cat' +on two sep'rate occasions. + +"Dead Shot an' his doll-bride, in the beginnin', seems to be gettin' +along all right. It's only when thar's money goin' over, that Dead +Shot has to buckle on his guns an' ride out with the stage. This gives +him lots of time to hang 'round, an' worship her. Which I'm yere to +reemark that if ever a white man sets up an idol, that a-way, an' says +his pra'rs to it, that gent's Dead Shot. Thar's nothin' to it; prick +her finger, an' you pierce his heart. + +"'It'd be beautiful if it wasn't awful,' says Faro Nell. + +"It ain't a month when events lifts up their p'isin heads, which goes +to jestify them comments of Nell's. Thar's been a White House shift +back in Washington, an' a new postmaster's sent out. He's a dapper +party, with what Peets calls a 'Van Dyke' beard, an' smells like a +ha'r-dresser's shop. + +"Now if affairs stops thar, we could have stood it; but they don't. I +abhors to say so, but it ain't two weeks before Dead Shot's wife's +makin' onmistak'ble eyes at that postmaster. Them times when Dead +Shot's dooties has took him to the other end of the trail, she's over +to the post office constant. None of us says anything, not even to +ourselves; but when it gets to whar she shoves you away from the +letter place, an' begins talkin' milk and honey to him right under +your nose, onless you're as blind as steeple bats, an' as deaf as the +adder of scriptoore which stoppeth her y'ear, you're shore bound to do +some thinkin'. + +[Illustration: WE'RE ALL DISCUSSIN' THE DOIN'S OF THIS YERE ROAD-AGENT +WHEN DAN GETS BACK FROM RED-DOG, AN' THE RESULT IS HE UNLOADS HIS +FINDIN'S ON A DEAD KYARD. p. 18.] + +"'Which if ever a gov'ment offishul,' exclaims Texas, as he comes +t'arin' into the Red Light one evenin', deemandin' drinks--'which if +ever a gov'ment offishul goes organizin' his own fooneral that a-way, +it's this yere deeboshed postmaster next door!' + +"Thar's nothin' said, but we-all knows what's on Texas's mind. That +wife of Dead Shot's, for the fo'th time that day, has gone askin' for +letters. + +"'She writes 'em to herse'f,' is the way Missis Rucker lays it down. +'Also, it's doo to the crim'nal besottedness of that egreegious Dead +Shot. The man's shorely love-blind!' + +"'You ain't goin' to t'ar into him for that, be you?' Nell asks, her +tones reproachful. 'Him lovin' her like he does shore makes a hit with +me. A limit goes in farobank; but my notion is to take the bridle off +when the game's love.' + +"'But all the same he needn't get that lovin' it addles him,' says +Missis Rucker. 'In a way, it's Dead Shot's sole fault, her actin' +like she does. Instead of keepin' them Mexicans to do her work, Dead +Shot ought to make her go surgin' round, an' care for her house +herse'f. Thar ain't nobody needs steady employment more'n a woman. +You-all savvys where it says that Satan finds some mischief still for +idle hands to do? Which you bet that bluff means women--an' +postmasters--every time.' + +"Missis Rucker continues along sim'lar lines, mighty inflexible, for +quite a spell. She concloodes by sayin': + +"'You keep a woman walsin' round a cook-stove, or wrastlin' a washtub, +or jugglin' pots an' skillets, same as them sleight-of-hand folks at +the Bird Cage Op'ry House, an' she won't be so free to primp an' preen +an' look at herse'f in the glass, an' go gaddin' after letters which +she herse'f's done writ.' + +"We-all can't he'p hearin' this yere, seen' we're settin' round the O. +K. dinin' table feedin' at the time; but we stubbornly refooses to be +drawed into any views, Enright settin' us the example. That sagacious +old warchief merely reaches for the salt-hoss, an' never yeeps; +wharupon we maintains ourselves stoodiously yeepless likewise. + +"Things goes on swingin' an' rattlin', an' the open-air flirtations +which Dead Shot's wife keeps up with that outcast of a postmaster's +enough to give you a chill. We sets thar, powerless, expectin' a +killin' every minute. An' all the time, like his eyes has took a +layoff, Dead Shot wanders to an' fro, boastin' an' braggin' in the +mushiest way about his wife. Moreover--an' this trenches on +eediotcy--he goes out of his path to make a pard of the postmaster, +an' has that deebauchee over to his shack evenin's. + +"Dead Shot even begins publicly singin' the praises of this office +holder. + +"'Which it's this a-way,' he says; 'what with him bein' book-read an' +a sport who's seen foreign lands, he's company for my wife. She +herse'f's eddicated to a feather-edge; an', nacherally, that's what +gives 'em so much in common.' + +"Thar's all the same a note in Dead Shot's voice that's like the echo +of a groan. It looks, too, as though it sets fire to Texas, who jumps +up as if he's stung by a trant'ler. + +"'Come,' he says, grabbin' Boggs by the shoulder. + +"Texas has Boggs drug half-way to the door, before Enright can head +'em off. + +"'Whar to?' demands Enright; an' then adds, 'don't you-all boys go +nigh that post office.' + +"'All right,' says Texas final, but gulpin' a little; 'since it's you +who says so, Sam, we won't. Me an' Dan yere'll merely take a little +_passear_ as far as the graveyard, by way of reecoverin' our sperits +an' to get the air. I'll shore blow up if obleeged to listen to that +Dead Shot any longer.' + +"'I sees it in his eye,' Enright explains in a low tone to Peets, as +he resoomes his cha'r; 'Texas is simply goin' to bend his gun over +that letter man's head.' + +"'How often has I told you, Dan,' asks Texas, after they gets headed +for Boot Hill, an' Texas has regained his aplomb, 'that women is a +brace game?' + +"'Not all women,' Boggs objects; 'thar's Nell.' + +"'Shore; Nell!' Texas consents. 'Sech as her has all of the honor an' +honesty of a Colt's-45. A gent can rely on the Nellie brand, same as +he can on his guns. But Nellie's one in one thousand. Them other nine +hundred an' ninety-nine'll deal you the odd-kyard, Dan, every time.' + +"When Texas an' Boggs arrives at Boot Hill, Texas goes seelectin' +about, same as if he's searchin' out a site for a grave. At last he +finds a place whar thar's nothin' but mesquite, soapweed an' rocks, +it's that ornery: + +"'Yere's whar we plants him,' says Texas; 'off yere, by himse'f, like +as if he's so much carrion.' + +"'Who you talkin' about?' asks Boggs, some amazed. + +"'Who?' repeats Texas; 'whoever but that postmaster? Dead Shot's got +to get him soon or late. An' followin' the obsequies, thar ain't goin' +to be no night gyards neither. Which if them coyotes wants to dig him +up, they're welcome. It's their lookout, not mine; an' I ain't got no +love for coyotes no how.' + +"'Thar ain't no coyote in Cochise County who's sunk that low he'll eat +him,' says Boggs. + +"Like every other outfit, Wolfville sees its hours of sunshine an' its +hours of gloom, its lights an' its shadders. But I'm yere to state +that it never suffers through no more nerve-rackin' eepock than that +which it puts in about Dead Shot an' his wife. She don't bother us so +much as him. It's Dead Shot himse'f, praisin' up the postmaster an' +paintin' the sun-kissed virchoose of his wife, which keeps the sweat +a-pourin' down the commoonal face. An' all that's left us is to stand +pat, an' wait for the finish! + +"One day the Wells-Fargo people sends Dead Shot to Santa Fe to take a +money box over to Taos. Two days later, Dead Shot's wife finds she's +got to go visit Tucson. Likewise, the postmaster allows he's been +ordered to Wilcox, to straighten out some deepartmental kinks. Which +we certainly sets thar an' looks at each other!--the play's that +rank. + +"The postmaster an' Dead Shot's wife goes rumblin' out on the same +stage. Monte starts to tell us what happens when he returns, but the +old profligate don't get far. + +"'Gents,' he says, 'that last trip, when Dead Shot's----' + +"'Shet up,' roars Enright, an' Monte shore shets up. + +"It comes plenty close to killin' the mis'rable old dipsomaniac at +that. He swells an' he swells, with that pent-up information inside +of him, ontil he looks like a dissipated toad. But sech is his awe of +Enright, he never dar's opens his clamshell. + +"It's a week before Dead Shot's wife gets back, an' the postmaster +don't show up till four days more. Then Dead Shot himse'f comes +trackin' in. + +"Faro Nell, who's eyes is plumb keen that a-way, lets on to Cherokee +private that Dead Shot looks sorrow-ridden. But I don't know! Dead +Shot's nacherally grave, havin' no humor. A gent who constant goes +messin' round with road agents, shootin' an' bein' shot at, ain't apt +to effervesce. Nell sticks to it, jest the same, that he's onder a +cloud. + +"Dead Shot continyoos to play his old system, an' cavorts 'round plumb +friendly with the postmaster, an' goes teeterin' yere an' thar tellin' +what a boon from heaven on high his wife is, same as former. + +"Faro Nell shakes her head when Cherokee mentions this last: + +"'That's his throw-off,' she says. + +"One evenin' Dead Shot comes trailin' into the Red Light, an' strolls +over to whar Cherokee's dealin' bank. + +"'What's the limit?' he asks. + +"At this, we-all looks up a whole lot. It's the first time ever Dead +Shot talks of puttin' down a bet. + +"Cherokee's face is like a mask, the face of the thorough-paced kyard +sharp. He shows no more astonishment than if Dead Shot's been settin' +in ag'inst his game every evenin' for a month. + +"'One hundred an' two hundred,' says Cherokee. + +"_'Bueno!'_ an' Dead Shot lays down two one-hundred dollar bills +between the king and queen. + +"Thar's two turns. The third the kyards falls 'ten-king,' an' Nell, +from her place on the lookout's stool, shoves over two hundred dollars +in bloo checks. Thar they are, with the two one-hundred dollar bills, +between the king an' queen. + +"'Does it go as it lays?' asks Dead Shot, it bein' double the limit. + +"'It goes,' says Cherokee, never movin' a muscle. + +"One turn, an' the kyards falls 'trey-queen.' Nell shoves four hundred +across to match up with Dead Shot's four hundred. + +"'An' now?' Dead Shot asks. + +"'I'll turn for it,' Cherokee responds. + +"It's yere that Dead Shot's luck goes back on him. The turn comes +'queen-jack,' an' Nell rakes down the eight hundred. + +"Dead Shot's hand goes to the butt of his gun. + +"'I've been robbed,' he growls; 'thar's fifty-three kyards in that +deck.' + +"Cherokee's on his feet, his eyes like two steel p'ints, gun half +drawed. But Nell's as quick. Her hand's on Cherokee's, an' she keeps +his gun whar it belongs. + +"'Steady!' she says; 'can't you see he's only coaxin' you to bump him +off?' Then, with her face full on Dead Shot, she continyoos: 'It won't +do, Dead Shot; it won't do none! You-all can't get it handed to you +yere! You're in the wrong shop; you-all ought to try next door!' An' +Nell p'ints with her little thumb through the wall to the post +office. + +"Dead Shot stands thar the color of seegyar ashes, while Cherokee +settles ca'mly back in his cha'r. Cherokee's face is as bar' of +expression as a blank piece of paper, as he runs his eye along the +lay-out, makin' ready for the next turn. Thar's mebby a dozen of us +playin', but not a word is spoke. Everyone is onto Dead Shot's little +game, the moment Nell begins to talk. + +"Matters seems to hang on centers, ontil Nell stretches across an' +lays her baby hand on Dead Shot's: + +"'Thar ain't a soul in sight,' she says, mighty soft an' good, 'but +what's your friend, Dead Shot.' + +"Dead Shot, pale as a candle, wheels toward the door. + +"'Pore Dead Shot!' murmurs Nell, the tears in her eyes, to that extent +she has to ask Boggs to take her place as lookout. + +"Four hours goes by, an' thar's the poundin' of a pony's hoofs, an' +the creak of saddle-leathers, out in front. It's the Red Dog chief, +who's come lookin' for Enright. + +"They confabs a minute or two at a table to the r'ar, an' then Enright +calls Peets over. + +"'Dead Shot's gone an' got himse'f downed,' he says. + +[Illustration: DEAD SHOT STOPS SHORT AT THIS HITCH IN THE DISCUSSION, BY +REASON OF A BULLET FROM THE LIGHTIN' BUG'S PISTOL WHICH LODGES IN HIS +LUNG. p. 29.] + +"'It's on the squar' gents,' explains the Red Dog chief; 'Dead Shot'll +say so himself. He jest nacherally comes huntin' it.' + +"It looks like Dead Shot, after that failure with Cherokee in the Red +Light, p'ints across for Red Dog. He searches out a party who's called +the Lightnin' Bug, on account of the spontaneous character of his +six-shooter. Dead Shot finds the Lightnin' Bug talkin' with two fellow +gents. He listens awhile, an' then takes charge of the conversation. + +"'Bug,' he says, raisin' his voice like it's a challenge--'Bug, only +I'm afraid folks'll string you up a whole lot, I'd say it's you who +stood up the stage last week in Apache Canyon. Also'--an' yere Dead +Shot takes to gropin' about in his jeans, same as if he's feelin' for +a knife--'it's mighty customary with me, on occasions sech as this, to +cut off the y'ears of----' + +"Dead Shot stops short, by reason of a bullet from the Bug's pistol +which lodges in his lungs. + +"When Peets an' Enright finds him, he's spread out on the Red Dog +chief's blankets, coughin' blood, with the sorrow-stricken Bug +proppin' him up one moment to drink water, an' sheddin' tears over him +the next, alternate. + +"The Red Dog chief leads out the weepin' Bug, who's lamentin' mighty +grievous, an' leaves Enright an' Peets with Dead Shot. + +"'It's all right, gents,' whispers Dead Shot; 'I comes lookin' for it, +an' I gets it. Likewise, she ain't to blame; it's me. I oughtn't to +have married her that time--she only a girl, an' me a full-growed man +who should 'av had sense for both.' + +"'That's no lie,' says Peets, an' Dead Shot gives him a grateful +look. + +"'No,' he goes on, 'she's too fine, too high--I wasn't her breed. An' +I ought to have seen it.' Yere he has a tussle to hang on. + +"Peets pours him out some whiskey. + +"'It's licker, ain't it?' Dead Shot gasps, sniffin' the glass. 'I'm +for water, Doc, licker makin' me that ornery.' + +"'Down with it,' urges Peets. 'Which, if I'm a jedge, you'll pack in +long before you're due to start anything extra serious, even if you +drinkt a gallon.' + +"'Shore!' agrees Dead Shot, as though the idee brings him relief. 'For +a moment it slips my mind about me bein' plugged. But as I'm sayin', +gents, don't blame her. An' don't blame him. I has my chance, an' has +it all framed up, too, when I crosses up with 'em recent over in +Tucson, to kill 'em both. But I can't do it, gents. The six-shooter at +sech a time's played out. That's straight; it don't fill the bill; it +ain't adequate, that a-way. So all I can do is feel sorry for 'em, an' +never let 'em know I knows. For, after all, it ain't their fault, it's +mine. You sports see that, don't you? She's never meant for me, bein' +too fine; an', me a man, I ought to have knowed.' + +"Dead Shot ceases talkin', an' Enright glances at Peets. Peets shakes +his head plenty sorrowful. + +"'Go on,' he says to Dead Shot; 'you-all wants us to do--what?' + +"'Thar you be!' an' at the sound of Peets' voice Dead Shot's mind +comes creepin' back to camp. 'She'll be happy with him--they havin' so +much in common--an' him an' her bein' eddicated that a-way--an' him +havin' traveled a whole lot! An' this yere's what I wants, gents. I +wants you-all, as a kindness to me an' in a friendly way--seein' I +can't stay none to look-out the play myse'f--to promise to sort o' +supervise round an' put them nuptials over right. I takes time by the +forelock an' sends to Tucson for a sky-pilot back two days ago. Bar +accidents, he'll be in camp by to-morry. He can work in at the +funeral, too, an' make it a whipsaw.' + +"Dead Shot turns his eyes on Enright. It's always so about our old +chief; every party who's in trouble heads for him like a coyote for a +camp fire. + +"'You'll shore see that he marries her?--Promise!' + +"Thar's a quaver in Dead Shot's voice, Peets tells me, that's like a +pra'r. + +"'Thar's my hand, Dead Shot,' says Enright, who's chokin' a little. +'So far as the letter man's concerned, it'll be the altar or the +windmill, Jack Moore an' a lariat or that preacher party you refers +to.' + +"Dead Shot's gettin' mighty weak. After Enright promises he leans back +like he's takin' a rest. He's so still they're beginnin' to figger +he's done cashed in; but all at once he starts up like he's +overlooked some bet, an' has turned back from eternity to tend to it. + +"'About Cherokee an' his box,' he whispers; 'that's a lyin' bluff I +makes. Tell him I don't mean nothin'; I'm only out to draw his fire.' + +"After this Dead Shot only rouses once. His voice ain't more'n a +sigh. + +"'I forgets to tell you,' he says, 'to give her my love. An' you say, +too, that I'm bumped off like snuffin' out a candle--too plumb quick +for her to get yere. An' don't blame her, gents; it's not her fault, +it's mine.' + +"It's the week after the fooneral. The postmaster's still in town, +partly by nacheral preference, partly because Enright notifies Jack +Moore to ride herd on him, an' fill him as full of lead as a bag of +bullets in event he ondertakes to go stampedin' off. + +"In the Red Light the seventh evenin' Enright rounds up Peets. + +"'Doc,' he says, 'a month would be more respect'ble, but this yere's +beginnin' to tell on me.' + +"'Besides,' Peets chips in, by way of he'pin' Enright out, 'that +preacher sharp corraled over to Missis Rucker's is gettin' restless. +Onless we side-lines or puts hobbles on that divine we-all can't +expect to go holdin' him much longer.' + +"Enright leads the way to the r'ar wareroom of the Noo York store, +which bein' whar the stranglers holds their meetin's is Wolfville's +hall of jestice. After licker is brought Enright sends Jack Moore for +the postmaster, who comes in lookin' plenty white. Missis Rucker +brings over the divine; an' next Dead Shot's widow--she's plumb lovely +in black--appears on the arm of Peets, who goes in person. + +"Thar's a question in the widow's eye, like she don't onderstand. + +"'Roll your game,' says Enright to the preacher sharp. + +"It's yere an' now Dead Shot's widow fully b'ars out that philos'pher +who announces so plumb cold, that a-way, that women's the sublimation +of the onexpected. Jack Moore's jest beginnin' to manoover that +recreant public servant into p'sition on the widow's left hand, so's +he can be married to the best advantage, an' the preacher sharp's +gettin' out an' openin' his book of rooles, when the widow draws +back. + +"P'intin' at the bridegroom postmaster, same as if he's a stingin' +lizard, she addresses Enright. + +"'Whatever's the meanin' of this?' + +"'Merely the croode preelim'naries, Ma'am,' Enright explains, 'to what +we-all trusts will prove a fa'rly deesir'ble weddin'.' + +"'Me marry him?' an' the onmitigated scorn that relict exhibits, to +say nothin' of her tone of voice, shore makes the postmaster +bridegroom feel chagrined. + +"'You'll pardon us, Ma'am,' returns Enright, soft an' depreecatory, +tryin' to get her feelin's bedded down, 'which you'll shore pardon us +if in our dullness we misreads your sentiments. You see, the notion +gets somehow proned into us that you wants this party. Which if we +makes a mistake, by way of repa'rin' that error, let me say that if +thar's any one else in sight whom you preefers, an' who's s'fficiently +single an' yoothful to render him el'gible for wedlock,'--yere Enright +takes in Boggs an' Texas with his gaze, wharat Texas grows as +green-eyed as a cornered bobcat--'he's yours, Ma'am, on your p'intin' +him out.' + +"'Which I don't want to marry no one,' cries the widow, commencin' to +sob. 'An' as for marryin' him speshul'--yere she glances at the +bridegroom postmaster in sech a hot an' drastic way he's left +shrivellin' in his own shame--'I'd sooner live an' die the widow of +Dead Shot Abner Baker than be the wife of a cornfield full of sech.' + +"Everybody stares, an' Enright takes a modicum of Old Jordan. + +"'You don't deeserve this none,' he says at last, turnin' to the +postmaster bridegroom. 'Onder the circumstances, however, thar's +nothin' left for me to do as cha'rman but deeclar' this yere weddin' a +misdeal.' + +"Texas is plumb disgusted. + +"'Don't some folks have nigger luck, Dan?' he says. + +"Later, after thinkin' things up an' down in his mind, Texas takes +ombrage at Enright's invitin' Dead Shot's widow to look him an' Boggs +over that a-way, an' take her pick. + +"'Which sech plays don't stand ace-high with me, Sam,' Texas +says--'you tryin' to auction me off like you does. Even a stranger, +with a half-way hooman heart, after hearin' my story would say that I +already suffers enough. An' yet you, who calls yourse'f my friend, +does all that lays in your callous power to thrust me back into +torment.' + +"'Texas,' replies Enright, like he's bore about all he can, 'you +shorely worries me with your conceit. If you-all won't take my word, +then go take a good hard look at yourse'f in the glass. Thar's never +the slightest risk, as everybody but you yourse'f sees plainly, of +that lady or any other lady takin' you.' + +"'You thinks not?' asks Texas, plenty incensed. + +"'Which I _knows_ not. No lady's lot ain't quite that desp'rate.' + +"'Well,' returns Texas, after a pause, his face expressin' his +soreness, 'I'm yere to say, Sam, I don't agree with you, none +whatever. You forgets that I've already been took in wedlock bonds by +one lady. An' while that Laredo wife of mine is hard an' crooel, all +Texas knows she's plumb partic'lar. Also, no one ever yet comes +pirootin' up the trail who doubts her taste.' + +"It's the evenin' before the preacher sharp goes back to Tucson, when +Enright edges him off into a corner of the O. K. dinin' room. + +"'Parson,' says Enright, lookin' like he's a heap bothered about +somethin'--'parson, in addition to your little game as a preacher that +a-way, you don't happen to be up none on table-tippin' or sperit +rappin', same as them mediums, do you?' + +"'Which I shore don't,' replies the preacher sharp, archin' his neck, +indignant. 'Likewise, I regyards them cer'monials you alloodes to as +satantic in their or'gin.' + +"'Doubtless, parson,' returns Enright, some disapp'inted, 'doubtless. +Still, if you-all but counts the rings on my horns, as givin' some +impression of the years I've lived an' what troubles I've probably +gone through, you'll onderstand that I ain't takin' Satan no more +serious than a empty six-shooter. But the mere trooth is, parson, I'm +pestered by them promises I makes deeceased. Which I'd give a yellow +stack to get put next to Dead Shot's sperit long enough to explain +concernin' them nuptials, an' make cl'ar jest how me an' the Doc falls +down.'" + + + + +II + +OLD MAN ENRIGHT'S UNCLE + + +"Which you'll excoose me," and the old cattleman replaced his glass +upon the table with a decisive click, "if I fails to j'ine you in them +sent'ments. For myse'f, I approves onreserved of both lies an' liars. +Also, that reemark goes double when it comes to public liars tellin' +public lies. Which, however se'fish it may sound, I prefers this +gov'ment to last my time; an' it's my idee that if them statesmen back +at Washington ever takes a hour off from their tax-eatin' an' tells +the people the trooth, the whole trooth an' nothin' but the trooth of +their affairs, said people'll be down on the sityooation instanter, +like a weasel on a nest of field mice, an' wipe the face of nacher +free an' cl'ar of these United States." + +The above was drawn forth by my condemnatory comments on the published +speech of a Senator, wherein the truth was as a grain of wheat in a +bushel of mendacious chaff. + +"Shore," continued the old gentleman, with the manner of one who +delivers final judgment, "lies is not only to be applauded, but +fostered. They're the angle-irons an' corner-braces that keeps plumb +the social fabric, wantin' which the whole frame-work of soci'ty would +go leanin' sideways, same as that Eyetalian tower you shows me the +picture of the other day. Why, if everybody in the world was to go +tellin' the trooth for the next hour ninety-nine folks in every +hundred would be obleeged to put in the rest of their lives hidin' +out. + +"Do I myse'f ever lie? + +"Frequent an' plumb cheerful. I bases life on the rooles laid down by +that sharp who advises folks to do unto others as others does unto +them, an' beat 'em to it. Believin', tharfore, in handin' a gent his +own system, I makes it my onbreakable practice to allers lie to liars. +Then, ag'in, whenever some impert'nent prairie dog takes to rummagin' +'round with queries to find out my deesigns, I onflaggingly fills him +to the brim with all forms of misleadin' mendac'ty, an' casts every +fictional obstruction in his path that's calc'lated to get between +his heels an' trip him up. I shore do admire to stand all sech +inquirin' mavericks on their heads, an' partic'ler if they're plottin' +ag'in me. + +"An' why not? A party that a-way, as I some time ago instructs you, +ain't got no more right to search my head than to search my warbags, +an' a gent who may lock a door may lie. Which, if you'll go off by +yourse'f an' think this yere over, you'll see that it's so, an' so +with a double cinch. + +"Thar's statements, too, which, speakin' technical, might be regyarded +as lyin' which don't in jestice class onder no sech head. For +spec'men, when Dick Wooten, upon me askin' him how long he's been +inhabitin' the Raton Pass, p'ints to the Spanish Peaks an' says, 'You +see them em'nences? Well, when I pitches camp in this yere gully them +mountings was two holes in the ground,' I don't feel like he's lyin'. +I merely remembers that he steals the bluff from old Jim Bridger, +grins an' lets it go at that. + +"Likewise, I'm sim'larly onaffected towards that amiable multitoode +who simply lies to entertain. These yere latter sports in their +preevar'cations is public ben'factors. You-all can spread yourse'f +out in the ca'm shadow of their yarns, same as if it's the shade of a +tree, an' find tharin reefreshment an' reepose. + +"While the most onimag'native of us, from Peets to Cherokee, ain't +none puny as conversationists, the biggest liar, ondoubted, who ever +comes romancin' into Wolfville is Enright's uncle, who visits him that +time. Back in Tennessee a passel of scientists makes what this yere +relative of Enright's deescribes as a 'Theological Survey' of some +waste land he has on Gingham Mountain, an' finds coal. An' after that +he's rich. Thus, in his old age, but chipper as a coopful of catbirds, +he comes rackin' into town, allowin' he'll take a last look at his +nephy, Sam, before he cashes in. + +"His name is Stallins, bein' he's kin to Enright on his mother's side, +an' since thar's nine ahead of him--Enright's mother bein' among the +first--an' he don't come along as a infant ontil the heel of the +domestic hunt that a-way, he's only got it on Enright by ten years in +the matter of age. + +[Illustration: THE SECOND EVENING OLD STALLINS IS WITH US, DAN BOGGS AN' +TEXAS THOMPSON UPLIFTS HIS AGED SPERITS WITH THE "LOVE DANCE OF THE +CATAMOUNTS." p. 43.] + +"No, I shore shouldn't hes'tate none to mention him as a top-sawyer +among liars, the same bein' his constant boast an' brag. He accepts +the term as embodyin' a compliment, an' the quick way to get his +bristles up is to su'gest that his genius for mendac'ty is beginnin' +to bog down. + +"For all that, Enright imparts to me, private, that the old gent as a +liar ain't a marker to his former se'f. + +"'You've heard tell,' Enright says, 'of neighborhood liars, an' +township liars, an' county liars; an' mebby even of liars whose fame +as sech might fill the frontiers of a state. Take my uncle, say forty +years ago, an' give him the right allowance of baldface whiskey, an' +the coast-to-coast expansiveness of them fictions he tosses off shore +entitles him to the name of champion of the nation. Compar'd to him, +Ananias is but a ambitious amatoor.' + +"It's the second evenin' old Stallins is with us, an' Enright takes +him over to Hamilton's Dance Hall, whar Boggs an' Texas--by partic'lar +reequest--uplifts his aged sperits with that y'ear-splittin' an' +toomultuous minyooet, the 'Love Dance of the Catamounts.' Which the +exh'bition sets his mem'ry to millin', an' when we gets back to the +Red Light he breaks out remin'scent. + +"'Sammy,' he says to Enright, 'you was old enough to rec'llect when I +has that location over on the upper Hawgthief? Gents,' he goes on, +turnin' to us, 'it's a six-forty, an'--side hill, swamp an' bottom--as +good a section as any to be crossed up with between the Painted Post +an' the 'Possum Trot. It's that "Love Dance of the Catamounts" which +brings it to my mind, since it's then an' thar, by virchoo of a +catamount, I wins my Sarah Ann. + +"'She's shore the star-eyed Venus of the Cumberland, is my Sarah Ann. +Her ha'r, black as paint, is as thick as a pony's mane; her lips is +the color of pokeberry juice; her cheeks--round an' soft--is as cl'ar +an' bright an' glowin' as a sunset in Jooly; her teeth is as +milk-white as the inside of a persimmon seed. She's five-foot-eleven +without her mocassins, stands as up an' down as a pine tree, got a arm +on her like the tiller of a scow, an' can heft a full-sized side of +beef an' hang it on the hook. That's fifty years ago. She's back home +on the Hawgthief waitin' for me now, my Sarah Ann is. You'd say she's +as gray as a 'possum, an' as wrinkled as a burnt boot. Mebby so; but +not to me, you bet. She's allers an' ever to me the same endoorin' +hooman sunburst I co'tes an' marries that long time ago.' + +"Old Stallins pauses to reefresh himse'f, an' Texas, who's been +fidgetin' an' frettin' since the first mention of Sarah Ann, goes +whisperin' to Boggs. + +"'Can't some of you-all,' he says, plenty peevish, 'head this yere +mushy old tarrapin off? This outfit knows what I suffers with that +Laredo wife of mine. An' yet it looks like I'm to be tortured constant +with tales of married folks, an' not one hand stretched out to save me +from them reecitals.' + +"'Brace up,' returns Boggs, tryin' to comfort him. 'Thicken your hide +ag'in sech childish feelin's, an' don't be so easy pierced. Besides, I +reckons the worst's over. He's comin' now to them catamounts.' + +"Texas grinds his teeth, an' old Stallins resoomes his adventures. + +"'My Sarah Ann's old pap has his location jest across the Hawgthief +from me. Besides him an' Sarah Ann, thar ain't nobody but the old +woman in the fam'ly, the balance of 'em havin' been swept away in a +freshet. Shore, old man Bender--that's Sarah Ann's pap's name--has +fourteen children once, Sarah Ann, who's oldest, bein' the first +chicken on the domestic roost. But the other thirteen is carried off +one evenin' when, what with the rains an' what with the snow meltin' +back on Gingham Mountain, the Hawgthief gets its back up. Swish comes +a big wave of water, an' you hear me them children goes coughin' an' +kickin' an' splutterin' into the misty beyond. + +"'Which I says thirteen only because that's whar old Bender allers +puts his loss. Zeb Stiles, who lives on the Painted Post, insists that +it's fifteen who gets swept away that time. He allows he counts them +infant Benders two evenin's before, perched along on old Bender's +palin's like pigeons on a limb. Thirteen or fifteen, however, it don't +make no difference much, once they're submerged, that a-way. + +"'Mebby I've been co'tin' my Sarah Ann for goin' on six months, givin' +her b'ar robes an' mink pelts, with now an' then a pa'r of bald eagle +wings to bresh the hearth. Nothin' heart-movin', however, comes off +between us, Sarah Ann keepin' me at arm's len'th an' comportin' +herse'f plumb uppish, as a maiden should. She's right; a likely girl +can't be too conserv'tive techin' what young an' boundin' bucks comes +co'tin' at her house. + +"'Old Bender sort o' likes me in streaks. After he gets bereft of them +thirteen or fifteen offspring he turns morose a whole lot, an' I used +to go 'cross in my dugout an' cheer him up with my lies. + +"'Could I lie? + +"'My nephy, Sammy, thar'll nar'ate how I once lies a full-grown b'ar +to death. The cunnin' varmint takes advantage of me bein' without my +weepons, an' chases me up a tree. I ensconces myse'f in the crotch, +an' when the b'ar starts to climb I hurls down ontrooth after ontrooth +on top of him ontill, beneath a avalanche of falsehood, he's crushed +dead at the base of the tree. Could I lie, you asks? Even folks who +don't like me concedes that I'm the most irresist'ble liar south of +the Ohio river. + +"'While I'm upliftin' the feelin's of old Bender mendacious that +a-way, he likes me; it's only when we gets to kyard-playin' he waxes +sour. He's a master-hand to gamble, old Bender is, an' as shore as I +shows up, followin' a lie or two, he's bound he'll play me seven-up +for a crock of baldface whiskey. Now thar ain't a sport from the Knobs +of old Knox to the Mississippi who could make seed corn off me at +seven-up, an' nacherally I beats old Bender out of the baldface. + +"'With that he'd rave an' t'ar, an' make like he's goin' to jump for +his 8-squar' Hawkins rifle, whar she's hangin' on a pa'r of antlers +over the door; but he'd content himse'f final by orderin' me out of +the shack, sayin' that no sech kyard-sharpin' galoot as me need come +pesterin' 'round allowin' to marry no child of his'n. At sech eepocks, +too, it looks like Sarah Ann sees things through the eyes of her old +man, an' she's more'n common icy. + +"'One day old Bender goes weavin' over to Pineknot, an' starts to +tradin' hosses with Zeb Stiles. They seesaws away for hours, an' old +Bender absorbs about two dollars' worth of licker, still-house rates. +In the finish Zeb does him brown an' does him black on the swap, so it +don't astonish nobody to death when next day he quiles up in his +blankets sick. Marm Bender tries rekiverin' him with yarbs, an' +kumfrey tea, an' sweet gum sa'v. When them rem'dies proves footile she +decides that perhaps a frolic'll fetch him. + +"'It's about second drink time in the afternoon when Marm Bender +starts out Fiddler Abe, givin' notice of the treat. I hears the old +nigger as, mule-back, he goes meanderin' along, singin': + + Thar's a smoke house full of bacon, + An' a barrel full of rum. + For to eat an' drink an' shake a laig + You've only got to come. + +"'As soon as Fiddler Abe starts singin' the girls an' boys begin +comin' out of the woods like red ants out of a burnin' log, headin' +hotfoot for old Bender's. + +"'Do I go? + +"'It ain't a hour after candle lightin' when, with mebby it's a pint +of baldface onder the buckle of my belt, I'm jumpin' higher, shoutin' +louder, an' doin' more to loosen the puncheons in the floor than any +four males of my species who's present at that merry-makin'. It he'ps +old Bender, too, an' inspired by the company an' onder the inflooence +of four or five stiff toddies, he resolves not to let that hoss trade +carry him to a ontimely grave, an' is sittin' up in his blankets, +yellin', "Wake snakes; an' Gin'ral Jackson fit the Injuns!" in happy +accord with the sperit of his times. + +"'Fiddler Abe strikes into the exyooberant strains of "Little Black +Bull Come Down the Mountains," an' I hauls Ten-spot Mollie out of the +gin'ral ruck of calico for a reel. We calls her Ten-spot Mollie +because she's got five freckles on each cheek. All the same, when it +comes to dancin', she's shore a she-steamboat. Every time we swings +she hefts me plumb free of the floor, an' bats my heels ag'in the +rafters ontil both ankles is sprained. + +"'Sarah Ann falls jealous, seem' me an' Ten-spot Mollie thus +pleasantly engaged, an' to get even goes to simperin' an' talkin' +giggle-talk to Mart Jenkins, who's rid in from Rapid Run. Jenks is a +offensive numbskull who's wormed his way into soci'ty by lickin' all +the boys 'round his side of Gingham Mountain. At that, he's merely +tol'rated. + +"'Seein' Sarah Ann philanderin' with Jenks, I lets go of Ten-spot +Mollie, who goes raspin' an' rollin' into a corner some abrupt, an' +sa'nters across to whar they're at. Leanin' over Sarah Ann's +off-shoulder, bein' the one furthest from that onmitigated Jenks, I +says, "Sweetheart, how can you waste time talkin' to this yere hooman +Sahara, whose intellects is that sterile they wouldn't raise +cow-pease?" + +"'This makes Jenks oneasy, an' getting up, he reemarks, "Dick +Stallins, I'll be the all-firedest obleeged to you if you'll attend on +me to the foot of the hollow, an' bring your instrooments." + +"'At this I explains that I ain't got my instrooments with me, havin' +left both rifle an' bowie in the dugout when I paddles over to the +dance. + +"'Jenks makes a insultin' gesture, an' reetorts, "Don't crawl, Dick +Stallins. Borry old Bender's nine-inch bootcher, an' come with me." + +"'To appease him I says I will, an' that I'll j'ine him at the before +named slaughter-ground in the flicker of a lamb's tail. Jenks stalks +off plumb satisfied, while I searches out Ben Hazlett, an' whispers +that Jenks is askin' for him some urgent, an' has gone down the trace +towards the foot of the hollow to look him up. Nacherally, my +diplom'cy in this yere behalf sends Ben cavortin' after Jenks; an' +this relieves me a heap, knowin' that all Jenks wants is a fight, an' +Ben'll do him jest as well as me. + +"'Which them was shorely happy days!' he continyoos, settin' down the +bottle wharwith he's been encouragin' his faculties. 'Troo, every gent +has to sleep with his head in a iron kettle for fear of Injuns, an' a +hundred dollars is bigger'n a cord of wood, but life is plenty +blissful jest the same.' + +"'Was you afraid of this yere Jenks?' asks Boggs. + +"'No more'n if he's a streak of lightnin'. Only, I've got on a new +huntin' shirt, made of green blanket cloth, an' I ain't none strenuous +about havin' that gyarment all slashed up. + +"'To proceed: After I dispatches Ben on the heels of Jenks that a-way +it occurs to me that mebby I'm sort o' tired with the labors of the +evenin', an' I'll find my dugout, ferry myse'f over to my own proper +wickyup, an' hit the hay for a snooze. I'm some hurried to the +concloosion by the way in which eevents begins to accumyoolate in my +immedyit vicin'ty. Bill Wheeler announces without a word of warnin' +that he's a flyin' alligator, besides advancin' the theery that Gene +Hemphill is about as deeserv'dly pop'lar as a abolitionist in South +Caroliny. I suspects that this attitoode of mind on Bill's part is +likely to provoke discussion, which suspicion is confirmed when Gene +knocks Bill down, an' boots him into the dooryard. Once in the open, +after a clout or two, Gene an' Bill goes to a clinch an' the fightin' +begins. + +"'It ain't no time when the circumf'rence of trouble spreads. Bud +Ingalls makes a pass at me pers'nal, an' by way of reeprisal I smashes +a stewpan on him. Bud's head goes through the bottom, like the clown +through them paper hoops in a cirkus, the stewpan fittin' down 'round +his neck same as one of them Elizbethan ruffs. The stewpan ockyoopies +so much of Bud's attention that I gets impatient, an' so, tellin' him +I ain't got no time to wait, I leaves him strugglin' with that +yootensil, an' strolls off down to the Hawgthief whistlin' "Sandy +Land." + +"'It's dark as the inside of a cow, an' somehow I misses the dugout; +but bein' stubborn, an' plumb sot about gettin' home, I wades in an' +begins to swim. The old Hawgthief is bank full, but I'd have made +t'other side all right if it ain't that, as I swims out from onder the +overhangin' branch of a tree, somethin' drops into the water behind +me, an' comes snarlin' an' splashin' an' spittin' along in pursoote. I +don't pay much heed at the jump, but when it claws off my nigh +moccasin, leavin' a inch-deep gash in my heel, I glances back an' +perceives by the two green eyes that I've become an object of +comsoomin' int'rest to a pa'nter, or what you-all out yere calls a +mountain lion, an' we-uns back in Tennessee a catamount.' + +"'But a panther won't swim,' reemonstrates Tutt. + +"'Arizona catamounts won't,' returns old Stallins, 'thar bein' no +rivers to speak of. But in Tennessee, whar thar's rivers to waste, +them cats takes to the water like so many muskrats. + +"'When I finds that thar's nothin' doggin' me but a catamount, I heads +all casyooal for whar a tree's done been lodged midstream, merely +flingin' the reemark over my shoulder to the catamount that, if he +keeps on annoyin' me, he'll about pick up the makin's of a maulin'. +As I crawls out on the bole of the lodged tree, I can hear the +catamount sniggerin', same as if he's laughin' me to scorn, an' this +yere insultin' contoomely half-way makes me mad. Which I ain't in the +habit of bein' took lightly by no catamount. + +"'Drawin' myse'f out o' the water, I straddles the bole of my tree, +an' organizes for the catamount, who's already crawlin' after me. +T'arin' off a convenient bough the thickness of your laig, I arranges +myse'f as a reeception committee for visitin' catamounts, an' by way +of beginnin' confers on my partic'lar anamile sech a bat over the +snout that he falls back into the drink, an' starts to swimmin' fancy +an' goin' 'round in circles, same as if his funny-bone's been teched. + +"'Every time he gets in reach I jabs him in the eye with the splinter +end of the bough, an' at last he grows that disgusted at these +formal'ties he swims off to the bank. Thar he camps down on his +ha'nches, an' glares green-eyed at me across the ragin' flood. + +"'Shore, I could have raised the long yell for he'p, but am withheld +by foolish pride. Besides, I can hear Ben an' Jenks tusslin' an' +gruntin' an' carryin' on over in the mouth of the hollow, as they +kyarves into each other with their knives, an' don't want to distract +their attention. + +"'As I sets camped thar on my lodged tree, an' the catamount is +planted on the bank, I hears the lippin' splash of a paddle, an' then +a voice which sounds like a chime of bells floats across to ask, "Dick +Stallins, you ornery runnigate, wharever be you?" + +"'It's my Sarah Ann, whose love, gettin' the upper hand of maidenly +reeserve, has sent her projectin' 'round in search of me. She's in my +dugout. + +"'The catamount identifies her as soon as me; an' thinkin' she ought +to be easy, he slides into the water ag'in an' starts for the +boat. It's that dark I ain't shore of his deesigns ontil I sees +him reach up, tip the dugout over, an' set Sarah Ann to wallowin' in +the rushin' torrent. The dugout upsets on the catamount, an' this so +confooses him that, by the time he's got his bearin's, Sarah Ann's +been swept down to my tree, an' I've lifted her to a seat by my +side. The catamount don't try to lay siege to our p'sition, +recognizing it as impregnable, but paddles back to the shore an' +goes into watchful camp as prior. + +"'For myse'f, I'm so elevated with love an' affection at havin' Sarah +Ann with me, I dismisses the catamount as a dead issue, an' as sech +beneath contempt, an' by way of mollifyin' Sarah Ann's feelin's, cuts +loose an' kisses her a gross or two of times, an' each like the crack +of a bull-whacker's whip. + +"'Old Bender hears them caresses plumb up to his house--as well he +may, they're that onreeserved an' earnest--an' thinks it's some one +shootin' a rifle. It has the effect of bringin' out the old Spartan +with his Hawkins; an' the first word of it that reaches me an' Sarah +Ann is him, Marm Bender an' the whole b'ilin' of folks is down thar on +the bank, tryin' to make out in the gen'ral dimness whatever be we-all +lovers doin' out thar in the middle of the Hawgthief on a snag. + +"'They don't deetect my catamount none, which sagacious feline slinks +off into the shadows covered with confoosion; all they sees is us. An' +the spectacle certainly excites old Bender. "Gen'ral Jackson fit the +Injuns!" he exclaims, as all of a sudden a thought strikes him; "that +measly excoose for a Union Democrat out thar is seekin' to eelope with +our Sarah Ann." + +"'The old murderer starts to get a bead on me with the Hawkins. +"Father," yells Marm Bender, pullin' at his sleeve, "you shore must be +mistook." + +"'Old Bender won't have it. "Maw," he returns, strivin' to disengage +himse'f, "I was never mistook about nothin' in my life but once, an' +that's when I shifts from baldface whiskey to hard cider on a +temp'rance argyooment. Let me go, woman, till I drill the miscreant +an' wash the stain from our fam'ly honor." + +"'Before the old hom'cide can get to launderin' the fam'ly honor in my +blood, however, Sarah Ann has interposed. "Don't go to blazing away at +my Dickey, pop," she sings out, "or I'll shore burn every improvement +you got, an' leave you an' maw an' me roofless in the midst of the +wilderness." + +"'This goes a long way towards soberin' down old Bender, because he +knows my Sarah Ann's the Cumberland hollyhock to put them menaces into +execootion. He lowers the muzzle of his old 8-squar', an' allows if I +promises to marry the girl I can swim ashore an' be forgiven. + +"'Thus the matter ends mighty amic'ble. We'all goes trackin' up to the +house, a preacher is rushed to the scene from Pineknot, an' them +nuptials between Sarah Ann an' me is sol'mnized. Shore, Jenks an' Ben +is thar. They're found by a committee of their friends scattered about +at the foot of the hollow, an' is collected an' brought up to the +weddin' in blankets. Dave Daniels, who surveys the scene next day, +says you could plant corn whar they fit, it's that plowed up. + +"'Followin' the cer'mony Marm Bender an' the old gent takes me into +their hearts an' cabin like I'm their own an' only son. He's a great +old daddy-in-law, old Bender is, an' is ven'rated for forty miles +about Gingham Mountain, as deevoted heart an' soul to baldface, +seven-up an' sin in any shape. + +"'That match-makin' catamount? + +"'We hives him. Me an' my new daddy-in-law tracks him to his reetreat, +an' when we're through he's plumb used up. I confers the pelt on my +Sarah Ann; an' she spreads it on the floor over by her side of the +bed, so as to put her little number sevens on it when she boils out of +a winter's mornin' to light the fire, an' rustle me my matoot'nal +buckwheat cakes an' sa'sage.'" + + + + +III + +CYNTHIANA, PET-NAMED ORIGINAL SIN + + +"This yere speecific heroine is a heap onconventional, so much so as +to be plumb puzzlin' to the common mind. Jest the same, she finishes +winner, an' makes herse'f a gen'ral source of pride. She don't notify +us, none whatever, that she intends a Wolfville deboo; jest nacherally +descends upon us, that a-way, as onannounced as a mink on a settin' +hen. All the same, we knows she's comin' while yet she's five mile out +on the trail. Not that we savvys who she is or what she aims at; we +merely gets moved up next to the fact that she's a lady, an' likewise +no slouch for looks. + +"We reads these yere trooths in the dust old Monte kicks up, as he +comes swingin' in with the stage. Which it's the weakness of this +inebriate, as I tells you former, that once let him get a lady aboard, +it looks like it's a signal for him to go pourin' the leather into his +team like he ain't got a minute to live. It's a p'lite attention he +assoomes, in his besotted way, is doo the sex. + +"It's the more strange, too, since it's the only attention Monte ever +pays 'em. He never looks at 'em, never speaks to 'em; simply plants +himse'f on the box, as up an' down as a cow's tail, an' t'ars into +them harassed hosses. If the lady he's complimentin' that a-way was to +get jolted overboard--which the same wouldn't be no mir'cal, +considerin' how that dipsomaniac drives--it's even money he leaves her +hunched up like a jack-rabbit alongside the trail, an' never thinks of +stoppin' or turnin' back. He's merely a drunkard with that one fool +idee of showin' off, an' nothin' the stage people's ever able to say +can teach him different. From first to last you-all could measure +Monte's notion of the pulcritoode of a petticoat passenger by the +extent to which he lams loose with his whip. Given what he deems is a +she-sunburst, he shorely does maltreat the company's live stock +shameful. + +"'If,' observes Peets, as a bunch of us stands gossipin' round in +front of the Red Light that time, watchin' the dust cloud draw nearer +an' nearer--'if it's poss'ble to imagine the old sot as havin' a +Cleopatra to freight over from Tucson, it's a cow pony to a Mexican +sheep he'd kill one of the wheelers.' + +"Thar ain't none of us knows who this yere Cleopatra the Doc refers to +is, onless it's Colonel Sterett, who edits the _Daily Coyote_. Still, +the compar'son is plenty convincin'. Accordin' to the Doc himself, +this Cleopatra's a meteoric female party, as lively as she is lovely, +who sets a passel of ancient sports to walkin' in a cirkle back +some'ers in the mists of time. Also, it's bloo chips to white, an' bet +'em higher than a cat's back, the Doc knows. The Doc is ondoubted the +best eddicated gent that ever makes a moccasin track between Yuma an' +the Raton Pass, an' when he onbuckles techin' any historic feachures, +you can call for a gooseha'r pillow, an' go to sleep on it he ain't +barkin' at no knot. + +"Thar's a feeble form of young tenderfoot pesterin' about the suburbs +of the crowd. He's one of them hooman deficits, so plumb ornery as to +be useless East, which their fam'lies, in gettin' rid of 'em, saws +happ'ly off onto a onprotected West. This partic'lar racial disaster's +been on our hands now mebbe it's six months, an' we-all is hopin' +that in some p'intless sort o' way he'll brace up and do overt acts +which entitles us to stampede him out of camp. But so far he don't. + +"This yere exile comes wanderin' into the talk by askin'--his voice as +thin as a curlew's: + +"'Who is this old Monte you're alloodin' at?' + +"'Whoever he is?' says Boggs. 'Which if you-all'd struck camp by way +of Tucson, instead of skulkin' upon us in the low-down fashion you +does along of the Lordsburg-Red Dog buckboard, you wouldn't have to +ask none. He's the offishul drunkard of Arizona, Monte is. Which the +same should be notice, too, that it's futile for you to go ropin' at +that p'sition. I says this, since from the quantity of Old Jordan +you've been mowin' away, I more'n half infers that you nourishes +designs upon the place.' + +"The feeble young shorthorn smiles a puny smile, and don't lunge forth +into no more queries. + +"Texas, who's been listenin' to what Boggs says, squar's 'round an' +half-way erects his crest for an argyooment. Texas has had marital +troubles, an' him ponderin' the same constant renders him some morbid +an' morose. + +"'From your tone of voice, Dan,' remarks Texas, 'I takes it you holds +Monte's appetite for nose paint to be a deefect. That's whar I +differs. That old marauder is a drunkard through sheer excess of +guile. He finds in alcohol his ark of refooge. I only wish I'd took to +whiskey in my 'teens.' + +"Boggs is amazed. + +"'Texas,' he says, plenty sorrowful, 'it wouldn't astonish me none if +you finds your finish in a wickeyup deevoted to loonatics, playin' +with a string of spools.' + +"'That's your onthinkin' way. Do you reckon now, if I'd been a slave +to drink when that Laredo wife of mine first sees me, she'd have +w'irled me to the altar an' made me the blighted longhorn you sees +now? She wouldn't have let me get near enough to her to give her a +bunch of grapes. It's my sobri'ty that's my ondoin', that an' bein' +plumb moral. Which I onerringly traces them divorce troubles, an' her +sellin' up my stock at public vandoo for cost an' al'mony like she +does, to me weakly holdin' aloof from whisky when I'm young.' + +"'Which I shore,'--an' Boggs shows he's mighty peevish an' put +out--'never meets up with a more exasp'ratin' conversationist! It's +because you're sech an' egreegious egotist! You-all can't talk ten +minutes, Texas, but what you're allers bringin' in them domestic +affairs of yours. If you desires to discuss whiskey abstract, an' from +what the Doc thar calls a academic standp'int, I'm your gent. But I +declines to be drug into personal'ties, in considerin' which I might +be carried by the heat of deebate to whar I gets myse'f shot up.' + +"'I sees your attitood, Dan; I sees your attitood, an' respects it. +Jest the same, thar's an anti-nuptial side to the liquor question, an' +bein' a drunkard that a-way is not without its compensations.' + +"'But he's bound to be so blurred,' reemonstrates Boggs, who by nacher +is dispootatious, an' once started prone to swing an' rattle with a +topic like a pup to a pig's y'ear: 'That drunkard is so plumb +blurred.' + +"'Blurred but free, Dan,' retorts Texas, mighty firm. 'Don't overlook +no sech bet as that drunkard bein' free. Also, it's better to be free +than sober.' + +"'Goin' back to Monte,' says Boggs, returning to the orig'nal text; +'half the time, over to the O.K. Restauraw when Missis Rucker slams +him down his chuck, he ain't none shore he's eatin' flapjacks or +rattlesnakes. The other day, when Rucker drops a plate, he jumps three +feet in the air, throws up his hands an' yells, "Take the express box, +gents, but spar' my life!" It's whiskey does it. The old cimmaron +thinks it's road agents stickin' him up.' + +"Dispoote is only ended by the stage thunderin' in--leathers creakin', +chains jinglin', bosses a lather of sweat an' alkali dust, Monte +cocked up on the box as austere as a treeful of owls. He's for openin' +the door, but Peets is thar before him. Let it get dealt down to +showin' attentions to a lady, an' the briskest sport'll have to move +some sudden, or the Doc'll beat him to it. Which he certainly is the +p'litest drug sharp of which hist'ry makes mention! + +"The Doc offers his hand to he'p her out, but she hits the ground +onaided as light as any leaf. Nacherally we looks her over. Take her +from foretop to fetlocks, she's as lovely as a diamond flush. She's +got corn-colored ha'r, an' eyes as soft as the sky in Joone. Peets +calls 'em azure--bein' romantic. As for the rest of us, we don't call +'em nothin'. Thar's a sprightly look about 'em, which would shore +jestify any semi-proodent gent in jumpin' sideways. Likewise, she's +packin' a Colt's .45, an' clutchin' a winchester in her little claw, +the same contreebutin' a whole lot toward makin' her impressive as a +pageant. + +"'How are you, sports?' she says, tossin' her disengaged hand a +heap arch. 'I gets word about you-all up in Vegas, an' allows I'll +come trundlin' down yere an' size you up. My idee is you needs +regen'ratin'.' + +"'Is thar anything we-all can he'p you to, Miss?' asks Enright, who +takes the play away from Peets. 'If aught is wanted, an' thar's a +lariat in the outfit long enough to reach, you-all can trust Wolfville +to rope, throw an' hawg-tie the same accordin' to your wishes.' + +"'Yes,' adds Peets, 'as Sam says, if thar's any little way we-all can +serve you, Miss, jest say the word. Likewise, if you don't feel like +speakin', make signs; an' if you objects to makin' signs, shake a +bush. All we reequires is the slightest hint.' + +"'Be ca'm,' says the young lady, her manner as se'f-confident as if +she's a queen. 'Thar's nothin' demanded of you outlaws except to +tamely listen. I'm a se'f-respectin', se'f-supportin' young female, +who believes in Woman Suffrage, an' the equality of the sexes in +pol'tics an' property rights. Which my name is Bark, baptized +Cynthiana, the same redooced by my old pap, while yet alive, into the +pet name of Original Sin. It's my present purpose to become a citizen +of this yere camp, an' take my ontrammeled place in its commercial +life by openin' a grogshop. Pendin' which, do you-all see this?'--an' +she dallies gently with a fringe of b'ar-claws she's wearin' as a +necklace, the same bein' in loo of beads. 'That grizzly's as big an' +ugly as him.' Yere she tosses a rose-leaf hand at Boggs, who breaks +into a profoose sweat. 'I downs him. Also, I'll send the first +horned-toad among you, who pays me any flagrant attentions, pirootin' +after that b'ar. Don't forget, gents: my name's Bark, Cynthiana Bark, +pet-named Original Sin, an' thar's a bite goes with the Bark.' + +"Havin' conclooded this yere salootatory, Miss Bark, givin' a +coquettish flourish to her winchester, goes trapsein' over to the O. +K. Restauraw, leavin' us--as the story-writer puts it--glooed to the +spot. You see it ain't been yoosual for us to cross up with ladies +who, never waitin' for us to so much as bat an admirin' eye or wag an +adorin' y'ear, opens neegotations by threatenin' to shoot us in two. + +"'Thar's a young lady,' says Peets, who's first to ketch his breath, +'that's got what I calls _verve_.' + +"'Admittin' which,' observes Enright, some doubtful, havin' been +thrown back on his hocks a whole lot; 'some of you-all young bucks +must none the less have looked at her in a improper way to start her +ghost-dancin' like she does.' + +"Enright's eye roves inquirin'ly from Boggs to Texas, an' even takes +in Tutt. + +"'Not me!' declar's Texas, plenty fervent; 'not me!--more'n if she's a +she rattlesnake!' + +"'As the husband of Tucson Jennie,' observes Tutt, his air some +haughty--which he allers puts on no end of dog whenever he mentions +his fam'ly--'as the husband of Tucson Jennie, an' the ondoubted father +of that public ornament an' blessin', little Enright Peets Tutt, I do +not regyard it as up to me to cl'ar myse'f of no sech charges.' + +"'Sam,' says Boggs, his voice reproachful, 'you notes how she makes +invidious compar'sons between me an' that b'ar, an' how she beefs the +b'ar? After which gratooitous slur it's preeposterous to s'ppose I'd +go admirin' her or to takin' any chances.' + +"'Then it's you,' says Enright, comin' round on the puny tenderfoot. +'Jack,' he continyoos, appealin' to Jack Moore, who's kettle-tender to +the Stranglers, of which arm of jestice Enright is chief--'Jack, do +you reemark any ontoward looks or leers on the part of this yere +partic'lar prairie dog, calc'lated to alarm a maiden of fastidious +feelin's?' + +"'Sir,' breaks in the feeble young tenderfoot, an' all mighty +tremyoolous, 'as shore as my name is Oscar Freelinghuysen I never even +glances at that girl. I ain't so much as present while she's issuin' +her deefiances. I lapses into the Red Light the moment I observes how +she's equipped, an' Black Jack, the barkeep, will ver'fy my words.' + +"'All right,' warns Enright, plumb severe, 'you be careful an' conduct +yourself deecorous. Wolfville is a moral camp. Thar's things done +every day an' approved of in Noo York which'd get a gent downed in +Wolfville.' + +"'That Miss Bark mentions she's Woman Suffrage, Sam?' observes Boggs, +in a questionin' way, as we stands sloppin' out a recooperative forty +drops in the Red Light. + +"'Shore!' replies Enright. 'The Doc yere can tell you all about 'em. +As I onderstands, they're a warlike bevy of women who voylently +resents not bein' born men. Thar's one thing, however; I sincerely +trusts that none of you young sports'll prove that forward an' onwary +as to go callin' her by her pet name of Original Sin. Which she might +take advantage of it. Them exponents of women's rights is plumb full +of the onexpected, that a-way, an' it's my belief that all who ain't +honin' to commit sooicide'll be careful an' address her as Miss +Bark.' + +"'Be they many of that Woman Suffrage brand?' persists Boggs. + +"'Herds of 'em,' chips in Peets. 'The Eastern ranges is alive with +'em. But they don't last. As a roole they gets married, an' that's +gen'rally speakin' the end of their pernicious activ'ties. Wedlock is +a heap apt to knock their horns off.' + +"Faro Nell, Tucson Jennie an' Missis Rucker don't take to this Miss +Bark's Woman Suffrage views. + +"'She's welcome,' says the latter esteemable cook an' matron, 'to her +feelin's; but she mustn't come preachin' no doctrine to me, wharof the +effects is to lower me to Rucker's level. I've had trouble enough +redoocin' that ground-hawg to where he belongs, an' I ain't goin' to +sacrifice the work of years for no mere sentiments.' + +"'Which I shore agrees with you, Missis Rucker,' says Nell, lookin' up +from some plum preeserves she's backin' off the noonday board to +consider Cherokee, who's settin' next; 'a woman has enough to do to +boss one gent, without tryin' to roole broadcast over whole +commoonities.' + +"At this exchange of views Cherokee softly grins like a sharp who can +see his way through. As for Rucker, who's waitin' on the table an' +packin' in viands from the kitchen, he takes it as sullen as a +sorehead dog. Personal, I ain't got no use for Rucker; but between +us, Missis Rucker, one way an' another, does certainly oppress him +grievous. + +"Before the week is out we knows a lot more about Miss Bark than we +does when she first comes prancin' out upon us from Monte's stage. Not +that thar's aught ag'inst the lady. It's doo to Enright, who begins +recollectin' things. + +"'Which I knows her pop,' explains Enright, 'now my mem'ry's assertin' +itse'f, I knows him when he first comes bulgin' into the Pecos Valley, +eighteen years ago. This Original Sin daughter an' her maw don't show +up none till later. Thar's no more innocent form of tenderfoot than +Bark ever comes weavin' into the Southwest. He's that ignorantly +innocent, wild geese is as wise as serpents to him. But he's full of a +painstakin' energy, all the same, an' mighty assidyoous to learn.' + +"'Whatever does he turn to?' asks Texas. + +"'He hires out to a peach ranch. An' this'll show you how industrious, +that a-way, this Bark tarrapin is. The peach ranch party has a measly +bunch of sheep. He keeps 'em nights in a box-tight board corral, so's +the coyotes can't get to mingle with 'em none. Days he throws 'em +loose to feed. The first evenin' the peach ranch gent tells this yere +Bark to corral the sheep, an' then come in for supper. "An' be shore," +says the peach ranch party, "you gets 'em all in." + +"'An hour goes by, an' the peach ranch party is about through his +feed, when this yere Bark drifts up to the table. His face is flushed, +but he's w'arin' a look of triumph. "I hives 'em," says he, some +exultant; "only one lamb does shore force me to extend myse'f a lot. +I'll gamble I runs a hundred miles before I rounds him up." + +"'Next mornin' the peach ranch party goes out to throw loose them +sheep. As he cranes his neck over the corral fence to count the bunch +he's amazed to see a jack-rabbit galumpin' about among 'em. "Gin'ral +Jackson fit the English!" he exclaims; "however does that jack-rabbit +get himse'f mixed in with them sheep?" An' he p'ints it out to Bark. + +"'That ontootered person is all astonishment. "Jack-rabbit!" says he. +"Why, I hopes next fall to vote the reepublican ticket an' die +disgraced if I don't put it down for a lamb! That's the anamile which +makes me run my laigs off roundin' of him up!"' + +"'Which, as you says, Sam,' reemarks Tutt, signin' up to Black Jack to +set out the bottles, 'in the face of sech a showin' that Bark party +must have been plenty ardent.' + +"'I should shore yell!' coincides Boggs. + +"'But he learns in time, of course?' questions Nell. + +"'Learns, Nellie?' repeats Enright; 'it ain't three years before he +identifies himse'f with the life about him to that degree he bumps off +two kyard sharps who tries to cold-deck him in a poker game, an' finds +besides his steady employment stealin' old John Chisholm's calves, +tharby assistin' in plantin' the toomultous seed of what comes +subsequent to be called the Lincoln County War.' + +"'What's the finish of this interestin' crim'nal?' asks Cherokee. + +"'Lynched,' returns Enright. 'They puts him over the jump at Seven +Rivers. You see this Rattlesnake--they calls him Rattlesnake Bark in +them later years--is bunked down in one of these yere jim-crow, +barn-board hotels. Thar's a resoundin' form of guest in the adjoinin' +room, snorin' to beat four kings an' a ace. Rattlesnake tries poundin' +on the partition, an' sw'arin' at him, an' callin' him a hoss thief. +It's no avail. The snores of that boarder sounds like sawin' planks, +an' fa'rly rocks the shack--they're that stormy. Final, when +Rattlesnake's burdens gets to be more'n flesh an' blood can b'ar, he +reaches for his .45, an' bombards that sleeper good an' plenty through +the wall. It turns out it's the new jedge. In the mornin', when this +joorist is discovered too dead to skin, the public is that mortified +it takes Rattlesnake out as soon as breakfast's over, an' strings him +to a limb.' + +"'Don't this pore Rattlesnake get no hearin'?' asks Nell. + +"'You see, Nellie,' Enright explains, 'what with maverickin' the +Chisholm calves, an' a stage or two hold-up which p'ints to him, the +close season's been out as to this Rattlesnake person for mighty like +a year. Not but what he might have made preperations. Thar's a +reeligious party present who asks Rattlesnake if he wants to pray +some. "Which you'll cross the dark river all the easier," expounds the +reeligious gent. But Rattlesnake reefuses his ministrations. "I'm +what I be," he says; "an' as for that dark river you refers to, I +ain't lookin' for no shallow ford." + +"'This Rattlesnake,' continyoos Enright, 'is willin' to learn to the +last. It's his way. Spring a new game on him an' he's out instanter +lookin' for information an' advice. That's why he comes on so fast. +Thar bein' nothin' to stand him on for the purpose of bein' lynched, +the Stranglers posed Rattlesnake a-top of a stack of hay, which is +heaped up onder the tree they're yootilizin'. When the lariat is round +his neck, an' he's disposed of the reeligious party who attempts to +turn the business into a pra'r meetin', Rattlesnake looks at the chief +of the committee an' says, "This yere bein' hanged from hay-cocks is +plumb new to me entire, an' tharfore I'm obleeged to ask whether +you-all expects me to jump off or slide?"' + +"'Well,' comments Jack Moore, drawin' a deep breath, 'the old +murderer's game--misguided, mebby, but game.' + +"'That may be as it may,' observes Boggs, plenty thoughtful, 'but +after all I regyards these yere details which Sam onfurls as chiefly +valyooable as sheddin' a ray on this Miss Bark. On the chance that she +takes after her old man, from now on I'm goin' to walk 'round her like +she's a swamp.' + +"It's ten days after Miss Bark hits camp that things begins to focus. +An old Mexican, the color of a blacksmith's apron, an' his wife, who's +the same prosaic tint, comes creakin' along with a six-mule team--two +wagons, lead an' trail--loaded to the gyards with stock an' fixtures. +Said par'fernalia havin' arrived, Miss Bark busts in the door of the +old deserted Lady Gay, an' takes possession. Armstrong, who runs the +Noo York store, is the owner of the Lady Gay, but onder the +circumstances he allows it'd be the act of a barbarian to interfere. + +"Besides, the attitoode of the young lady herse'f is plumb discouragin'. + +"'I'd shore admire,' she remarks, as, with the aid of her Mexicans, +she goes tossin' things into p'sition, 'to see some male felon try to +run a bluff about him havin' title to this Lady Gay structure, an' +becomin' my landlord. Men have tyrannized a heap too long as it is +over onprotected women, an' thar's one at least who's took in patient +silence all she will.' + +"When Miss Bark's organized, she tacks up over the door a sign which +the painter at the stage station preepar's. It reads: + + VOTES FOR WOMEN SALOON + +"'Only get it straight,' says Miss Bark when she has us close-herded +at chuck time in the dinin' room of the O. K. Restauraw; 'I ain't +openin' this saloon none with a view to sordid gain. I got money +enough right now to buy an' burn this yere deboshed town of Wolfville, +an' then prance over an' purchase an' apply the torch to that equally +abandoned outfit, Red Dog. What I'm reachin' for is the p'litical +uplift of this camp. Recognizin' whiskey as a permanency an' that +saloons has come to stay, I aims to show folks how them reesorts +should be run. I hopes to see the day when every s'loon'll be in the +hands of ladies. For I holds that once woman controls the nosepaint of +the nation the ballot is bound to follow.' + +"Once it's started we-all manages to patronize the Votes For Women +S'loon for a average of three drinks a day. Enright advises it as +safer. + +"'Otherwise she might resent it,' explains Enright, 'an' armed to the +teeth like she is, an' possessin' them perfervid idees, thar's no +tellin' whar she'd end.' + +"None of us feels like hangin' out thar. The atmosphere is too plumb +formal. Besides, this yere Miss Bark has rooles. No kyards is +permitted; an', moreover, you've got to go outdoors to sw'ar. As to +drinks, the soberest among us can't get licker oftener than every +other time, while Monte can't get none at all. That Votes For Women +S'loon, considered as a house of call, is, an' put it mildest, +certainly depressin'. + +"When I speaks of us patronizin' Miss Bark for three daily drinks, +that a-way, thar's exceptions. Monte, as I states, is barred by the +lady personal on the grounds of him bein' a slave to drink; while Tutt +is forbid by Tucson Jennie. Tutt chafes some at them mandates of +Jennie's; but bein' keenly alive as to what's comin' to her, as well +as what she's cap'ble of, in her triple rôle of woman, wife an' +mother, he yields. + +"As for Texas, while he subscribes to them three diurnal drinks, he +allers insists that he has company. + +"'It's all right,' Texas'd say; 'I ain't intimatin' that this Miss +Bark goes cherishin' designs. But it's my onbreakable roole, since +them divoice experiences, to never enter the presence of onmarried +ladies onless attended by witnesses.' + +"Owin' to which, some of us allers trails in along with Texas when he +visits the Votes For Women S'loon. Even when thus protected he +onflaggin'ly confines his observations to 'Licker, Miss, please!' an' +stops thar as dumb as graven images. Once the licker's before him he +heaves it into himse'f same as if it's drugs, an' instantly pulls his +freight a heap speedy, breathin' hard. An' all as scared as a +jack-rabbit that's heard the howl of a wolf. + +"Does Miss Bark go proselytin' 'round concernin' them Rights of Women? +Which she shore does! You may say she omits no opportoonity. It's +before Wolfville gets that effete it mixes drinks, an' any one who +knows water from whiskey can 'tend bar. Wharfore, Miss Bark stands +watch an' watch with her old Mexican, Pancho. The times she herse'f is +min'sterin' to our needs she's preachin' Woman Suffrage incessant. +Also, not bein' plumb locoed, we bows in concord tharunto. Enright an' +Peets both concurs that it's the thing to do, an' we does it. + +"'Whatever difference does it make?' says Enright; 'the price of +steers remains the same, three-of-a-kind continyoos to beat two pa'r, +thar's still fifty-two kyards in a faro deck, an' every other law of +nacher survives onteched. My notion is to agree with this Miss Bark, +verbal, an' trust to Wolfville's onbeatable luck to pull us through.' + +"This counsel sounds good to us, an' we follows it. When Miss Bark +sets forth her woman's rights fulm'nations along with her nosepaint, +we murmurs a hearty assent, an' drinks down both impartial. Boggs, +who's 'motional an' easy worked on, even gets to whar he gives it out +he's actchooally a convert. + +"Miss Bark has been on the map for mebby it's a week, then thar occurs +a eeposide which, while it makes no profound impression, deceased +bein' a Mexican, shows she ain't packin' her pap Rattlesnake's old +Colt's .45 in a sperit of facetiousness. It's about third drink time +one evenin' when thar's the dull roar of a gun from over in the Votes +For Women S'loon. When we arrives we finds a dead greaser carelessly +quiled up near the door, an' Miss Bark snappin' the empty shell out of +her six-shooter. + +"'He was roode,' is the only explanation she vouchsafes; an' Enright, +after lookin' at Peets a spell, who's lookin' at the ceilin', says +it's s'fficient. + +"'Only,' says Enright, when we're all back safe in the Red Light, 'I +sincerely trusts she won't get her hindsights notched up to whar she +takes to bumpin' off _Americanos_. I shore don't know whatever in sech +case we could do, vig'lance committees, in the very essence of their +construction, possessin' no joorisdiction over ladies.' + +"'That's right, Sam,' says Peets, plenty grave; 'if it ever gets to +whar this Miss Bark turns her artillery loose on the camp permis'cus +the only hope left would be to adjourn Wolfville _sine die_.' + +"Miss Bark, however, never does grow homicidal toward any of us, an' +the only effect of her puttin' that Mexican over is that it inclines +folks gen'ral to step high an' softly on what occasions they're found +plantigradin' about in her s'ciety. + +"One week, two weeks, three weeks goes by, an' since a dead Mexican +more or less ain't calc'lated to leave no onefface'ble scars the +incident is all but forgot, when a second uprisin' takes place in the +Votes For Women S'loon. This time it's that sickly curlew-voiced Oscar +who's the shriekin' center of eevents. Most of us is jest filin' out +of the O. K. Restauraw, pickin' our teeth after our matootinal +reepast, when we beholds this yere Oscar boilin' fo'th from the Votes +For Women S'loon, all spraddled out. As he goes t'arin' down the +street Miss Bark seelects a graceful p'sition in the door, an' ca'mly +pumps three loads at him out of her winchester. When I says she pumps +them bullets at Oscar it's to be took conserv'tive; for none of 'em +hits him, but only tosses up the dust about his flyin' feet. At the +last shot Oscar cripples down in a shiverin' heap; an' with that Texas +an' Boggs, not knowin' the extent of his injuries, rolls him onto a +blanket an' packs him to his room over at the O. K. House, so's Peets +can prospect his frame all scientific locatin' the lead. + +"Thar bein' no lead, as reelated, Peets reeports final to that +effect. + +"'Only,' says Peets, 'he's scared up to sech extents that if our Joan +of Arc had dusted his gaiters with so much as two more bullets he'd +have been beyond medical skill.' + +"Followin' the foosilade Miss Bark sends for Enright. + +"'It's this way,' she goes on, when Enright arrives. 'That shorthorn +Oscar comes lurchin' in, an' asks for nosepaint. As he stands thar, +puttin' it onder his belt--me meanwhile swabbin' off the bar--he +mentions that his paw's rich, an' his step-maw's jest died, leavin' +him an' his paw alone. Then he calls attention to the presence in camp +of that strayed sky-pilot, who preaches an' passes the hat the other +evenin' over in the wareroom of the Noo York store. It's now, havin' +got the bar tittivated to my taste, I has time to look this Oscar +person's way, an' I finds him gloatin' over me in form an' manner not +to be mistook. "Whatever be you leerin' at?" I deemands, bein' I'm in +no mood for insults. Tharupon, he cuts loose a mouthful of platitoodes +concernin' wedlock, an' about me bein' the soul of his soul. Havin' +stood it a while, an' findin' my forbearance makes him worse, I grabs +my winchester whar it's reposin' ready for eemergincies on the +dripboard, an' you knows the rest.' + +"'With your free consent, Miss,' says Enright, 'I'd like to put one +query. Was you aimin' to down, or to simply skeer this Oscar?' + +"'I was only skeerin' him up some,' replies Miss Bark coyly. 'W'y, if +I was reely out for his skelp, I'd have shore got it a heap. You can +pin a patch the size of a dollar on that disparin' lover's coat, an' +I'll cut it nine times in ten, offhand, at a hundred yards.' + +"'Tests is not reequired,' Enright interposes, plenty hasty; 'it's +part of the organic law of this yere camp that a lady's word, even +about her age, is to be took onchallenged.' + +"'Which I'm flattered,' says Miss Bark. 'Now, is thar anything else?' + +"'Only this,' returns Enright. 'As long as he gives you cause, an' you +can shoot like you says, why ever don't you down him?' + +"'Which I confesses,' says Miss Bark, a blush mantlin' her brow, +'that sech is my orig'nal intentions when I reaches for my weepon. But +jest as I sees that Oscar through the sights it comes upon me that +thar's nothin' in bein' preecip'tate, an' mebby I'd better give myse'f +the needed time to think his offer over.' + +"Enright shakes his wisdom-freighted head; when he relates his talk to +Peets, the Doc shakes his head sim'lar in sapient yoonison. + +"'Which I'll bet a hatful of yellow chips,' says Boggs, who's stood +listenin', 'ag'inst a handful of whites, that this yere Miss Bark +makes herse'f an' that Oscar shorthorn man an' wife.' + +"'Now I wouldn't wonder none,' observes Peets, replyin' to the look in +Enright's eye. 'That shootin' needn't count. A troo affection is +freequent boisterous, that a-way.' + +"'An' in case,' says Enright, 'the kyards do fall in favor of +matrimony, it'll most likely be the end of that Votes For Women +S'loon. I begins to see how this yere ongrateful outfit may yet get +deep in debt to that egreegious Oscar.' + +"None of us ever says so, but it's the common belief that Texas +connives at this yere threatened Oscar's escape. In any case, the +next mornin' Oscar goes catfoot out of the O. K. House before folks is +up, an' takes to hidin' out. The fact is he's layin' for Monte an' the +stage, about ten mile no'th of camp. Leastwise, he's thar a heap when +Monte comes along, an' deemands that he be took up an' carried to +Tucson. + +"It ain't first drink time before this Oscar's missed, an' by second +drink time the news has drifted over to Miss Bark. It's Peets who +informs her, an' he tells us, when reelatin' the incident, that the +way that deeserted lady knits her brow is a caution to philos'phers. + +"'So,' she says at last, 'that onmitigated seedoocer thinks to leave +me in this heartless way. He'll find before he's through that it's no +light matter to charm into fervent life a love like mine.' + +"'It's the theery, Miss,' says Peets, 'of the best minds in camp that +this Oscar's hit the Tucson trail afoot, with a plan of headin' off +the stage.' + +"Ten minutes an' Miss Bark is in the saddle, a lead pony gallopin' by +her side, in hot pursoote of the dir'lect. + +"'That lead pony looks om'nous, Doc,' observes Enright, as the two +stands watchin' Miss Bark's departure. + +"'It's prov'dential,' remarks Peets, as he heads the procession to the +Red Light, 'that that sky-pilot's aboard the stage. Which he ought to +work in plumb handy.' + +"Six hours later Miss Bark comes surgin' in with her Oscar foogitive, +his heels tied onder the belly of the lead hoss. Any one can see by +his benumbed expression that he's a married man. The two heads +straight for the Votes For Women S'loon, an' after boltin' her new +he'pmeet into the back room, Miss Bark takes a peek in the glass, pats +down her ha'r, an' goes behind the bar as yoosual. + +"'Yes,' she replies, an' all a heap modest an' artless, as Peets an' +Enright--actin' on behalf of the camp--gyardedly inquires if they're +to offer congratulations, 'I reckon you may. An' the best part is that +my dear Oscar's so plumb ready an' willin'. Which I never knows a +bridegroom, gents, who gets married with so little struggle.' + +[Illustration: "IT'S YOU, OSCAR, THAT I WANT," OBSERVES MISS BARK. "I +CONCLOODES, UPON SOBER SECOND THOUGHT, TO ACCEPT YOUR OFFER OF MARRIAGE." +p. 93.] + +"'How soon, Missis Freelinghuysen,' says Peets, 'do you-all reckon on +lettin' this Oscar husband out?' + +"'Oh,' she returns, 'as soon as ever it's safe. Jest now he's some +onstrung; but in a day or two I figger he'll begin to get reeconciled +to his bliss. An' at that, my main idee in lockin' him up is one of +reeform rather than restraint. Oscar's been over-drinkin' himse'f of +late; an' I aims to get the whiskey out of him, so as I can form some +reas'nable estimate of how much of a husband that a-way I've done +roped up.' + +"'Is thar any objections,' asks Enright, 'to our visitin' this modern +pris'ner of Chillon? We binds ourselves to say nothin' that'll fret +him, or set him to beatin' his life out ag'inst the bars.' + +"'W'y, shore,' she replies, 'you-all is quite welcome. I only hopes +you'll teach him to look at things in their proper light.' + +"'It ain't so much,' says this Oscar husband, when Enright an' Peets +calls upon him in his captivity, 'that I've been hurried, onregyardful +of my feelin's, into the married state. But, gents, my parent is doo, +accordin' to his last letter, to come curvin' in yere any minute; an' +whatever do you-all reckon now he's goin' to say?' + +"Enright an' Peets is so moved they promises the imprisoned Oscar +their support, an' this leaves him, if not hopeful, at least some +cheered. + +"Monte gives his version of them nuptials when he returns from +Tucson. + +"'Which it's this a-way, pards,' says Monte. 'I'm twenty miles no'th +of yere, when somethin' flashes by with a lead hoss, like arrows. +Thinks I, "That's a hoss thief gettin' away with some stock"; an', +allowin' Jack Moore'll be hard on his neefarious hocks, I'm lookin' +back to see can I raise Jack's dust. The next I knows, an' all as +sudden as a pan of milk from a top shelf, I hears a silv'ry voice +remarkin': "Set your brake!" an' turnin' my head I finds a winchester +p'intin' as squar' between my eyes as you-all could lay your finger. +Gents, thar's something mighty cogent about a winchester that a-way, +an' I shore shoves on the brake with sech abandon I snaps the shank +short off.' + +"'Wharever is this Oscar party?' asks Enright. + +"'He's with me on the box; an' when this yere intrepid Miss Bark takes +to dom'neerin' at us with that rifle he collapses. "It's you, Oscar," +observes this Miss Bark, shiftin' the muzzle to him. "Upon second +thought I concloods to accept your offer of marriage." + +"'Which at that crisis,' remarks Peets, 'this Oscar of course breaks +into loud an' joyful cries.' + +"'Not exactly. In fact, his tones if anything is some low-sperited. "I +takes it," he says, when he's able to command his feelin's, "that you +declines them proffers with your winchester at the time when made." +But the lady dismisses this as a quibble, an' merely sayin' that she +won't be paltered with no farther, orders Oscar an' the Bible sharp +who's ridin' inside to assemble by the edge of the trail. The Bible +sharp attempts to lay the foundations of fresh objections by askin' +Oscar does he do this of his own free will; but the muzzle of the +winchester--which the bride all along reetains in her hands--begins +movin' 'round in his direction, observin' which man'festation he +pronounces 'em husband an' wife. "What heaven has j'ined together," +says he, "let no man put asunder." After which he blesses 'em, an' +reeports the last cinch fastened. "Pay him, Oscar," whispers the +bride. Wharupon Oscar, his fingers tremblin', squars the Bible sharp +with the price of a brace of steers, an' the deed is done. Now he's +hers for better or worse, she ropes his heels together onder the belly +of her lead hoss, an' the happy pa'r goes romancin' back for +Wolfville, while I kicks loose what's left of the brake an' p'ints out +ag'in for Tucson.' + +"On the third day, by givin' his parole an' promising to fondly +reeport to his spouse once every hour, Oscar is permitted to go +reecreatin' about the camp. + +"'Only,' says the lady, by way of warnin' to Black Jack, 'thar's to be +no drinks.' + +"These yere strained conditions preevails for mebby it's five days, +when, as the stage swings in to the post office one evenin', a stout +florid old gent gets out. He comes puffin' up to Peets a heap +soopercilious. + +"'Do you-all know a addle-pated an' semi-eediotic young party,' says +he, 'who's named Oscar Freelinghuysen?' + +"'Why, yes,' returns Peets, 'I do. Onless my mem'ry's pulled its +picket pin an' gone plumb astray he's the eboolient sharp who +conclooded a somewhat toomultuous courtship last week by gettin' +married. He's in the shank of his honeymoon as we stands chattin' +yere.' + +"The florid gent glares at Peets, his feachures the color of liver, +his eyes stickin' out like the eyes of a snail. + +"'Married!' he gasps, an' falls in a apoplectic fit. + +"It takes a week an' all the drugs Peets has got before that +apoplectic's able to sit up an' call for nosepaint. An' whatever do +you think? His daughter-in-law, but onbeknownsts to him as sech, +nurses him from soda to hock. Oscar Joonior? By advice of Enright that +prodigal's took to cover over in Red Dog ontil we've made shore about +the fatted calf. + +"The former Miss Bark puts up that nursin' game with Peets, an' day +an' night she hangs over her apoplectic father-in-law like a painter +over a picture. She's certainly as cunnin' as a pet fox! She dresses +as quiet as a quail an' makes her voice as softly sober as a suckin' +dove's. In the end she's got that patient hypnotized. + +"After Peets declar's him out of danger, an' all propped up in his +blankets he's subscribed to mighty likely it's the fifth drink, the +apoplectic begins to shed tears a heap profoose, an' relate to his +nurse--the former Miss Bark--how his two wives has died, leavin' him a +lonely man. She, the former Miss Bark, is his only friend--he +says--an' he winds up his lamentations by recommendin' that she become +his third. + +"'You're the only hooman heart who ever onderstands me,' he wails, +gropin' for her hand, 'an' now my ongrateful boy has contracted a +messalliance I shore wants you for my wife.' + +"She hangs her head like a flower at night, an' lets on she's a heap +confoosed. + +"'Speak,' he pleads; 'tell me that you'll be mine.' + +"'Which I'd shore admire to, but I can't,' she murmurs; 'I'm wedded to +your son.' + +"The old apoplectic asks for more licker in a dazed way, an' sends for +Peets. The Doc an' him goes into execyootive session for most an +hour; meanwhile the camp's on edge. + +"At the close the Doc eemerges plumb radiant. + +"'Everything's on velvet,' he says; 'thar's never a more joodicious +convalescent. He freely admits, considerin' the sort of daughter-in-law +he's acquired, that Oscar has more sense than folks suspects.' + +"Now that the skies is cl'ared, the bridegroom is fetched back from +Red Dog, an' thar's a grand reeconciliation. + +"'We'll all go back East together,' sobs father-in-law Freelinghuysen, +holdin' both their hands. + +"Two days later they starts, Missis Freelinghuysen Joonier lookin' +after father-in-law Freelinghuysen same as if he's a charlotte +roosse. + +"The Votes For Women S'loon? + +"It's kept a secret, at Peet's su'gestion, him bein' apoplectic that +a-way. The stock is bought by public subscription of the camp, an' +when the Freelinghuysen household is out of sight an' hearin' we +invites Red Dog over in a body an' onbelts in a mod'rate orgy. The +sign, 'Votes For Women S'loon,' is now preeserved in the custody of +the Wolfville Historical Society, which body is called into active +bein' upon motion of Peets, while Red Dog an' us is drinkin' up the +stock." + + + + +IV + +OLD MONTE, OFFICIAL DRUNKARD + + +"Shore; Monte's the offishul drunkard of Arizona." The old cattleman +was answering my question. "Or, seein' that mebby Wolfville's +joorisdiction won't be held none to reach beyond, let's say the +offishul drunkard of Cochise County. That's Monte's civic designation; +offishul drunkard, an' meant to fix his social place. + +"Does he resent it? + +"Which he proudly w'ars that title like it's a kingly crown! It's as +good as even money that to ondertake to sep'rate him from it, or deny +the same, is the one single thing he bristles up at an' give you a +battle over. + +"Which this yere last should mean a heap, since Monte's plumb pacific +by nacher, an' abhors war to the mean confines of bein' timid. To be +shore, he'll steam at the nose, an' paw the sod, an' act like he's out +to spread rooin far an' wide--that he's doo to leave everything in +front of him on both sides of the road. But in them perfervid +man'festations he don't reely intend nothin' either high or heenious, +or more'n jest to give his se'f-respect an outing that a-way. Let the +opp'sition call him down, an' the crafty old cimmaron'll go to the +diskyard instanter. + +"Which at that, Monte ain't without his interestin' side. When onder +the inflooence of nosepaint, which last is constant, he has three +distinct moods. About the fo'th drink, let a stranger show up, +an'--all aff'ble an' garyoolous--Monte's right thar to do the honors. +When the stranger, gettin' weary, kicks Monte off him, the same bein' +shore to happen final since no one formed in the image of his Maker +can put up with them verbal imbecil'ties of his beyond a given len'th +of time, he'll arch his back an'--apparently--wax that f'rocious a +wronged grizzly to him is as meek as milk. An' yet, as I tells you, +it's simply a blazer; an' the moment the exasperated stranger begins +betrayin' symptoms of goin' to a showdown, Monte lapses into his third +mood of haughty silence, an' struts off like it's beneath him to bandy +words. + +"That's the savin' clause in Monte's constitootion; he may get drunk, +but he never gets injoodicious. Thar's a sport from some'ers over +'round Shakespear in the dance hall one evenin', whose patience has +been plenty treespassed on by Monte. By way of bringin' matters to a +deecisive head, this yere Shakespear party tells Monte he's a liar. Do +you reckon Monte hooks up with him? Not a chance! He simply casts on +that maligner from Shakespear a look of disparagement, an' with nose +held high, as markin' his contempt, moves away with the remark. + +"'That's something I refooses to discuss with you.' + +"Which thar's no more real p'isin in Monte than in a hired girl. + +"We has the chance once to try some experiments on Monte, an' it's the +mistake of our lives we don't. Peets, whose regrets is scientific, +feels speshully acoote. Thar's a partic'lar bar'l of nosepaint gets +trundled into camp, which is nothin' short of bein' the condensed +essence of hostility. Black Jack, after years as barkeep, says himse'f +he never sees nothin' like it. On the hocks of two drinks, folks gets +that ornery Enright has it freighted back to Tucson in alarm, fearin' +for the peace of the camp. At the time, none of us thinks of it; but +later it's a subject of gen'ral regret that some of it ain't saved to +try on Monte. Mebby that speshul brand of licker turns out to be the +missin' ingreedient, an' keys him up to deeds of heroism. + +"Jest to show you some of the milder workin's of that licker. Boggs +files away four inches of it onder his belt, an' next, when he's +walkin' by the corral an' meets a Mexican, he reaches out in a +casyooal an' abstracted way, collars that Greaser an' hefts him over a +six-foot 'dobe fence, same as if he's a bag of bran; an' all apropos +of nothin'. Boggs says himse'f he don't know why none. He's thinkin' +of something else at the time, he declar's, an' the eepisode don't +leave no partic'lar traces on his mem'ry. The trooth is, it's that +veehement an' onmuzzled nosepaint, incitin' him to voylence. + +"Is the Mexican hurt? + +"Which, if I remembers rightly, Peets does mention about a busted +collarbone. But it don't create no interest--him bein' a Mexican. You +see, thar's a feelin', amountin' fa'rly to a onwritten law, that +Mexicans ain't got no rightful call to be seen in public no how; an' +when one does go pirootin' round permiscus, in voylation of this yere +tenet, nacherally he takes his chances. You-all can gamble, though, +that Boggs shore never would have reached for him, only he's +actchooated by that whiskey. + +"As modest an' retirin' a sperit as Cherokee, to whom any form of +boastful bluff is plumb reepellant, subscribes to a mod'rate snifter +of that licker; an' in less time than it takes to rope a pony, he's +out in front of the Red Light, onbucklin' in a display of pistol +shootin'. Thar's a brace of towerists in camp, an' Cherokee let's on +he'll show 'em. Which he shore shows 'em! He tosses two tomatter cans +on high, an' with a gun in each hand keeps 'em dancin' an' jumpin' +about in the atmosphere ontil thar's six bullets through each. It's a +heap satisfyin' as a performance, as far as them pop-eyed towerists is +concerned, an' both leaves town that evenin' by speshul buckboard. + +"Onaffected by that licker, Cherokee wouldn't have no more gone an' +made sech a spectacle of himse'f, though urged tharunto by the +yoonanimous voice of the outfit. When he so far recovers as to +'ppreeciate what Faro Nell has to say of them exploits--an', while +tender, she's plenty explicit--he comes mighty clost to blushin' +himse'f to death. + +"It's after we notes what it does to Cherokee, an' hears of them +exhibitions of broote force by Boggs, that we gets timid about this +yere whisky, an' Enright orders the bar'l sent back. An' right he is! +S'ppose them Red Dogs was to have come prancin' over for a social +call, an' s'ppose in entertainin' 'em we all inadvertent has recourse +to that partic'lar licker, whatever do you-all reckon 'd have been the +finish? Son, thar'd have been one of them things they calls a +catyclism, an' nothin' short. + +"It's shore a fightin' form of licker. Tutt reeserves out a tin cup of +it, an' sets it down by a prairie dog's hole. Accordin' to Tutt, the +dog comes out, laps it once, an' starts back same as if he's been shot +with a '45. Thar he squats, battin' his eyes, wrinklin' up his nose, +an' cogitatin'. After thinkin' the thing over, the dog approaches, +mighty gingerly, an' takes three or four more laps. Then he r'ars +back, an' considers for quite a spell. It looks final like he gets his +mind made up, an' with that he capers over, an' he'ps himse'f to what +for a prairie dog is shore a big drink. + +"Two minutes later, ha'r bristlin', whiskers standin' out like wire, +eyes full of determination, that dog crosses over to another dog who's +livin' neighbor to him, an' says--accordin' to Tutt: + +"'Wharever can I locate that coyote who's been domineerin' round yere +for mebby it's a month, harassin' folks into their holes? Whar's that +coyote at?' + +"Peets allers allows Tutt exaggerates, but havin' sampled that licker +some myse'f, I'm a long ride from bein' so shore. + +"That lack of war instinct in Monte ain't no speecific drawback. Him +drivin' stage that a-way, he ain't expected none to fight. The +hold-ups onderstands it, the company onderstands it, everybody +onderstands it. It's the law of the trail. That's why, when the stage +is stopped, the driver's never downed. Which if thar's money aboard, +an' the express outfit wants it defended, they slams on some sport to +ride shotgun that trip. It's for this shotgun speshulist to give the +route agents an argyooment. Which they're licensed to go bombardin' +each other ontil the goin' down of the sun. As for the driver, +however, the etikette simply calls for him to set his brake, an' all +peaceful hold his hands above his head. It's inside his rights, too, +accordin' to the rooles, for him to cuss out the hold-ups, an' call +'em all the hard names of which he's cap'ble; an' stage drivers, who +loves their art, spends their time between drinks practisin' new cuss +words, an' inventin' onheard of epithets, so as to be ready when dooty +an' o'casion calls. Havin' downed or driven off the shotgun sport, an' +seen the bottom of the express box, the hold-ups tells the stage +driver to pull his freight. Wharupon he picks up the reins, kicks free +the brake, lets fly a loorid an' final broadside of vitooperation--he +havin' carefully reeserved the same, by way of peroration--an' goes +his windin' way. + +"Wolfville's been on the map for most a year, when Monte first shows +up. In the beginnin', an' ontil we-all gets adjusted to him, he's +something of a bore. Leastwise, he ain't what you'd go so far as to +call a boon companion. When it dawns on us that he's plottin' to make +himse'f a permanency, it certainly does look for a spell that, what +with his consumption of nosepaint an' what with his turrific genius +for snorin', he's goin' to be a trifle more'n we can stand. + +"Does Monte snore? + +"Not to create ondoo excitement, the bar'foot onclothed trooth is that +his snorin' falls nothin' short of bein' sinful. Boggs has plenty of +countenance when he brings them snores to the attention of Enright. + +"'Thar's shore a limit somewhar, Sam,' Boggs says, 'to this yere +drunkard's right to snore. Which he's simply keepin' everybody over to +the O. K. House settin' up. Onless something's done to check him, +thar'll be a epidemic of St. Vitus dance. You ask Doc Peets; he'll +tell you that this yere Monte with his snorin' is a scourge.' + +"It's not alone their volume, but their quality, which makes them +snores of Monte so ondesir'ble. Some folks snores a heap deprecatory, +an' like they're apol'gizin' for it as they goes along. Others snores +in a manner ca'mly confident, an' all as though the idee that any gent +objects would astonish 'em to death. Still others snores plumb +deefiant, an' like they ain't snorin' so much for comfort, that +a-way, as to show their contempt for mankind. It's to this yere latter +hostile school that drunkard, Monte, belongs. + +"After Boggs lodges complaint, Enright takes a corrective peek into +the sityooation. Thar's two rooms over the O. K. kitchen, sort o' off +by themselves. Upon Enright's hint, Missis Rucker beds down Monte in +one, an' Deef Andy, who mends harness for the stage company an' can't +hear nothin', in the other. + +"'It's for the safety of your excellent car'vansary, Ma'am,' Enright +explains. 'Which Dan's mighty easy moved; an' some mornin', onless you +adopts them improvements, that somnolent sot you're harborin' 'll go +too far with Dan. I takes it you-all don't want the shack all smoked +up with Dan's six-shooter? In which event you'll put that reverberant +drunkard in the far-corner room, with Andy next.' + +"Peets once mentions a long-ago poet party, named Johnson, who, +speakin' of a fellow poet after he's dead an' down onder the +grass-roots, lets on that he teches nothin' he don't adorn. You can +go your ultimate simoleon that ain't Monte's style. The only things he +don't upset is bottles; the only flooid he never spills is licker. +This yere last would be ag'inst his religion. Wharever he goes, he's +otherwise draggin' his rope, an' half the time he's steppin' on it. + +"It's him that coaxes that onhappy Polish picture painter our way. +This yere is long after he's drivin' stage, an' as Wolfville's +offishul drunkard becomes a tol'rated feachure of the camp. This +Polish artist person is as much out o' place in Arizona as a faro +lay-out at a Sunday school picnic. Monte crosses up with him over at +Tucson in the Oriental S'loon, an' while thar's no ties between 'em, +more'n what nacherally forms between two gents who sets drinkin' +together all night long, before ever they're through with each other +that inspired inebriate lands the locoed artist party on our hands. +Enright shore does go the limit in rebookin' Monte. + +"'Why, Sam,' says Monte, an' he's that depreecatory he whines, 'I +allows you'll look on him as a acquisition.' + +"'All the same,' returns Enright, an' I never knows him more +forbiddin', 'yereafter please confine your annoyin' assidooities to +drivin' stage, an' don't go tryin' to improve the outlook of this +camp.' + +"Monte, with this, gets that dismal he sheds tears. 'Which it shore +looks like I can't do nothin' right,' he sobs. + +"'Then don't,' says Enright. + +"From the start, Monte graves himse'f upon the mem'ry of folk as the +first sport, to onroll his blankets in Cochise County, who consoomes +normal over twenty drinks a day. Upon festal occasions like Noo +Year's, an' Christmas, an' Fo'th of Jooly, an' Thanksgivin', no gent +who calls himse'f a gent thinks of keepin' tabs on a fellow gent, no +matter how freequent he signs up to Black Jack. On gala o'casions, +sech as them noted, the bridle is plumb off the hoss, an' even though +you drinks to your capac'ty an' some beyond, no one's that vulgar as +to go makin' remarks. But that ain't Monte; he's different a heap. It +looks like every day is Fo'th of Jooly with him, he's that inveterate +in his reemorseless hankerin' for nosepaint. + +"Also, regyarded as to his social side, Monte, as I states former, is +a nooisance. Knowin' folks, too, is his fad. Only so you give him +licker enough, he'll go surgin' round accostin' every gent he sees. No +matter how austere a stranger is, Monte'll tackle him. An' at that he +never says nothin' worth hearin', an' in its total absence of +direction his conversation resembles nothin' so much as a dog chasin' +its tail. + +"An' then thar's them footile bluffs he's allers tryin' to run. He's +been pesterin' in an' out of the Red Light one evenin' ontil he's got +Black Jack incensed. As he comes squanderin' along, for say the +twentieth time, Black Jack groans, an' murmurs, + +"'Yere's that booze-soaked old hoss-thief ag'in!' + +"Monte gets the echo of it, same as folks allers does when it ain't +wanted, but he's onable to say who. So he stands thar by the bar, +glarin' 'round an' snortin'. Final, he roars: + +"'Who cuts loose that personal'ty?' + +"Thar ain't no answer, an' Monte ag'in takes to pitchin' on his rope. + +"'Show me the galoot who insults me,' he roars; 'let him no longer +dog it, but p'int himse'f out as the gent.' + +"'All right,' says Black Jack, whose indignation gets the best of his +reespons'bilities as barkeep, 'which I'm the party who alloodes to you +as a booze-soaked old hoss-thief.' + +"'An' so you're the gent,' says Monte, castin' a witherin' glance at +Black Jack; 'so you're the would-be sooicide who calls me a +booze-soaked old hoss-thief?' + +"'Which I'm the identical stingin' lizard. Now what is it you're so +plumb eager to say?' + +"'What am I eager to say? I merely wants to remark that you ain't done +nothin' to swell up over. You-all needn't go thinkin' you're the first +barkeep who calls me a booze-soaked old hoss-thief.' + +"Havin' la'nched this yere, Monte turns off as stiffly pompous as +though he ain't left a grease-spot of Black Jack. + +"When folks won't listen to him no longer, Monte goes bulgin' forth +into the highways an' the byways, an' holds long an' important +discussions with signs, an' dry-goods boxes, an' sim'lar inan'mate +elements of the landscape. Also, to mules an' burros. I remarks him +myse'f, whisperin' in the onregyardful y'ear of a burro, an' said +anamile as sound asleep as a tree. When that drunkard's through his +confidences, he backs off, an' wavin' his paw plumb myster'ous at the +burro says: + +"'Remember, now; I'm givin' you this yere p'inter as a friend.' + +"That time Black Jack offends Monte, after the latter hits the +sidewalk followin' what he clar'ly considers is his crushin' come-back +on Black Jack, he gets the feelin' that Jack's ha'ntin' along on his +trail. Before he's gone fifty foot, he w'irls about, an' shouts: + +"'Don't you-all follow me! Which, if you crowds me, them places that +has knowed you won't know you no more forever.' + +"When Monte gets off this menace, it seems like the Black Jack specter +becomes intim'dated, an' tries to squar' itse'f. + +"'What's that?' Monte asks, after listenin' mighty dignified to the +spook's excuses; 'you begs my pardon? Not another word. If you-all +keeps on talkin' now you'll sp'ile it. Thar's my hand,' givin' the +fingers of the phantom a mighty earnest squeeze. 'I'm your friend, an' +that goes.' + +"Havin' established a peace, Monte insists that the Black Jack phantom +b'ar him company to the O. K. Restauraw. In spite of all Missis Rucker +can say or do, he plants the spook at the table, feeds it on the best +that's in the kitchen, an' all as confident as if it's shorely troo. +Also, he insists on payin' for two. + +"When Missis Rucker tries to show him he's down wrong, he refooses to +have it that way. + +"'Do you-all reckon, Ma'am, that I can't trust my eyes none?' he +demands. 'Which you'll tell me next that them airtights I tops of with +is figments.' + +"'But thar's only one of you-all,' Missis Rucker persists. + +"'Ma'am,' returns Monte, his manner plumb s'picious, 'I don't jest +quite sense your little game. Whatever it is, however, you-all can't +play it on old Monte. You write back to my fam'ly an' the neighbors, +an' the least flatterin' among 'em'll tell you that I'm as cunnin' as +a squinch owl. Thar's two of us who feeds, an' for two of us I +settles. Bein' a woman, you're too feeble-witted for reason, too +mendacious for trooth.' + +"'Don't you go callin' me no woman,' says Missis Rucker, her eyes +snappin', 'onless you're ready to cash in.' + +"'Women!' repeats Monte, sort o' addressin' the scenery, but still +plenty cynical, 'what be they except a fleetin' show to man's +deloosion given. Also, thar's nothin' to 'em. You opens their front +door, an' you're in their back yard.' + +"Texas has been givin' y'ear to the talk. It's before his Laredo wife +starts ropin' for that divorce; but she's already makin' war medicine, +an' the signs an' signal smokes which p'int to an uprisin' is vis'ble +on every hill. Texas is careful not to let Missis Rucker hear him +none, but as he walks away, he mutters: + +"'That ghost-seein' sport's got the treemors, but all the same I +strings with him on them estimates of ladies.' + +"Texas is that fav'rably affected about Monte, he talks things over +with Tutt, who himse'f ain't married to Tucson Jennie none as yet. +Them nuptials, an' that onbiased blessin', little Enright Peets Tutt, +who results tharfrom, comes along later. + +"'Which thar's good in that Monte maverick,' says Texas; 'only so we +could get the nosepaint out of him.' + +"'Now, I wouldn't wonder none, neither,' says Tutt. + +"'He drinkt up two quarts an' a half yesterday,' says Texas. + +"'Ain't thar no steps which can be took?' Tutt asks. 'Two quarts an' a +half, though, shore sounds like he's somethin' of a prop'sition.' + +"These yere remarks is made in the Red Light, an' Tutt an' Texas +appeals to Cherokee, whar that courtier of fortune is settin' in +behind his lay-out. Cherokee waves 'em off, p'lite but firm. + +"'Don't ask me none,' he says. 'You-all knows my doctrines. Let every +gent kill his own snakes.' + +"'That's my theology,' remarks Boggs, who has just come ramblin' in +from the Noo York store, whar he's been changin' in a bundle of money +for shirts; 'I recalls how, when I'm a prattlin' yearlin', hearin' +Parson Ed'ards of the Cambellite Church quotin' whar Cain gives it out +cold that he's not his brother's keeper; an' even at that onthinkin' +age I fully endorses Cain's p'sition.' + +"The talk takes in Black Jack, who, by virchoo of him bein' a barkeep, +nacherally savvys a heap about the licker question. Jack reelates how +a sot he knows back in Arkansaw is shocked into never takin' a drink, +by simply blowin' his hand off accidental while tanked up. + +"'Whang! goes the old Betsy,' says Jack, 'an' that slave to licker's +shy his left hand. "Which it lets me out!" he exclaims; an' datin' +from said catastrophy he'd no more tech nosepaint, that a-way, than +he'd join the church.' + +"'But it's doubtful,' observes Tutt, 'if Enright stands to let us +shoot this yere Monte drunkard's hand off.' + +"'It's ten to one he won't,' says Texas; 'still thar ought to be other +schemes for shockin' a party into moral'ty, which stops short o' +cripplin' him for life.' + +"'But is this yere inebriate worth the worry?' asks Boggs. 'Also, it +shore strikes me as mighty gratooitous for us to go reorganizin' the +morals of a plumb stranger, an' him not even asked.' + +"'Which he's worth the worry all right,' Texas replies. 'Thar's no +efforts too great, when thar's a chance to save a party who has the +same thorough onderstandin' of ladies which this gent has.' + +"Up over the Red Light bar is a stuffed bobcat, the same bein' held as +decorative. Only the day before Texas and Tutt stands talkin', a +couple of Enright's riders comes packin' a live bobcat into town, +which between 'em they ropes up over in the foothills of the Tres +Hermanas, an' jams labor'ously into a pa'r of laiggin's. The same idee +seizes on Texas an' Tutt yoonanimous. They sees that it only calls for +the intelligent use of that Bar-8 bobcat, which them cow-punchers of +Enright's ties down, to reegen'rate Monte, an' make him white as +snow. + +[Illustration: A COUPLE OF ENRIGHT'S RIDERS COMES A PACKIN' A LIVE BOBCAT +INTO TOWN. p. 118.] + +"Monte's ain't present none, bein' over to the O. K. House. By bein' +plumb painstakin', Tutt an' Texas gets a collar onto the captive Bar-8 +bobcat, an' chains him up over the Red Light bar, in place of the +stuffed bobcat, deeposed. The Bar-8 bobcat jumps off once or twict +before he learns, an' comes mighty clost to lynchin' himse'f. But +Black Jack is patient, an' each time pokes him back with a cha'r. +After mebby the third jump, it gets proned into the bobcat that thar's +nothin' in it for him to go hurlin' himse'f into space that a-way, an' +bein' saved from death by hangin' only through the cha'r-laig +meditations of Black Jack. Acceptin' this yere view, he stands pat on +his shelf. Likewise, he shore looks mighty vivid up thar, an' has got +that former stuffed predecessor of his beat four ways from the jack. + +"We're hankerin' around, now the Bar-8 bobcat's organized, waitin' for +Monte to come amblin' up, an' be reformed. + +"'An' you can gamble,' Tutt says, 'that the shock it'll throw into +him'll have a ben'ficial effect. Shootin' off a hand or so ain't in it +with the way that drunkard's goin' to feel.' + +"'That's the way I figgers,' Texas remarks. 'One glance at that +bobcat, him on the verge of the treemors, an' thar'll a thrill go +through his rum-soaked frame like the grace of heaven through a camp +meetin'. For one, I antic'pate most excellent effects. Whatever do you +think, Doc?' + +"'Whatever do I think?' Peets repeats. 'Which I thinks that, as the +orig'nators of this yere cure for the licker habit, it'll be up to you +an' Dave to convey the patient to his room at the O. K. House, as soon +as ever you can control his struggles.' + +"Monte at last heaves in sight, an' comes shiverin' up to the bar, +every nerve as tight as a fiddle string. Black Jack shoves him the +bottle. + +"'What stuffed anamile sharp,' says Tutt, craftily directin' himself +at Black Jack, 'mounts that bobcat up thar?' + +"Monte nacherally raises his eyes. Thar's that Bar-8 feline, +half-crouched, glarin' down on him with green eyes, big as moons. + +"That settles it. + +"Monte gives a yell which they hears in Red Dog. Wharupon the bobcat, +takin' it for a threatenin' deemonstration, onfolds in an answerin' +yell, an' makes a scramblin' jump at Monte's head. Shore, he don't +land none, bein' brought up short, like a roped pony. Thar he swings, +cussin' an' spittin' an' clawin', as mad as a drunken squaw, an' +begins all over to hang himse'f afresh. + +"Monte? + +"That victim of appetite falls to the floor as dead an' flat as a wet +December leaf. + +"Actin' on them instructions, Tutt an' Texas picks Monte up an' packs +him across to Peets, who, after fussin' over him for mebby an hour, +brings him round s'fficient so he goes from one convulsion into +another, in what you-all might deescribe as an endless chain of fits. +Thar's nothin' to it; Peets is indoobitable the best equipped drug +sharp that ever breaks loose in Arizona. At that, while Monte lives, +he don't but jest. He's shore close enough at one time to kingdom come +to hear the singin'. + +"For two weeks Monte's boilin' an' boundin' round in his blankets, +Texas an' Tutt, feelin' a heap reemorseful, standin' watch and watch. +It's decided that no more attempts to reform him will be made, him +bein'--accordin' to Peets--too far gone that a-way. + +"'He's plumb onreform'ble,' explains Peets; 'whiskey's got to be so +much a second nacher with him, that the only way you-all could cure +him now is kill him.' + +"By way of partial rep'ration for what he suffers, as soon as Monte +can ag'in move about, Enright calls a meetin' of the camp, an' +dooly commissions him 'Offishul Drunkard,' with a absoloote an' +non-reevok'ble license to go as far as he likes. + +"'This yere post of offishul drunkard,' Enright explains to the +meetin', 'carries with it no money, no power, an' means only that he's +free to drink from dark to daylight an' to dark ag'in, oncriticized, +onreproved, an' onsaved. Colonel Sterett imparts to us in the last +_Daily Coyote_ how them Hindoos has their sacred cobras. Cobras not +bein' feas'ble none in Arizona, Wolfville in loo of sech accepts old +Monte. Yereafter, w'arin' the title of offishul drunkard, he takes his +place in the public regyard as Wolfville's sacred cobra.' + +"When Monte learns of his elevation, his eyes fills up with gratified +pride, an' as soon as ever he's able to stand the w'ar an' t'ar, he +goes on a protracted public drunk, by way of cel'bration, while we +looks tol'rantly on. + +"'Gents,' he says, 'I thanks you. Yereafter the gnawin' tooth of +conscience will be dulled, havin' your distinguished endorsement so to +do. Virchoo is all right in its place. But so is vice. The world +can't all be good an' safe at one an' the same time. Which if we all +done right, an' went to the right, we'd tip the world over. Half has +got to do wrong an' go to the left, to hold things steady. That's me; +I was foaled to do wrong an' go to the left. It's the only way in +which a jealous but inscroot'ble Providence permits me to serve my +hour. Offishul drunkard! Ag'in I thanks you. Which this yere's the way +I long have sought, an' mourned because I found it not, long meter.' + +"Boggs is the only gent who takes a gloomy view. + +"'That's fine for this yere egreegious Monte,' says Boggs, talkin' to +Enright; 'as Wolfville's pet drunkard an' offishul cobra, he's mighty +pleasantly provided for. But how about the camp? Whar does Wolfville +come in? We're a strong people; but does any gent pretend that we +possesses the fortitoode reequired to b'ar up through all the comin' +rum-soaked years?--an' all onder the weight of this yere onmatched +inebriate, whom by our own act an' as offishul drunkard, we onmuzzles +in our shrinkin' midst? Gents, this thing can't last.' + +"'Not necessar'ly, Dan,' retorts Enright, his manner trenchin' on the +cold; 'not necessar'ly. Let me expound the sityooation. I need not +remind you-all that Sand Creek Riley, who drives the Tucson stage, +gets bumped off the other evenin', while preeposterously insistin' +that aces-up beats three-of-a-kind. Realizin' the trooth of half what +you has said, Dan, I this evenin' enters into strategic reelations +with the stage company's agent; an' as a reesult, an' datin' from now +on, old Monte will be hired to fill the place of Sand Creek Riley, +whom we all regrets. It's hardly reequired that I p'int out the +benefits of this yere arrangement. As stage driver, old Monte for +every other night will get sawed off on Tucson. An' I misjedges the +vitality of this camp if, with the pressure on it thus relieved, an' +Tucson carryin' half the load, it's onable to live through. In my +opinion, Dan, by the light of this explanation, you at least oughter +hope for the best.' + +"'That's whatever!' says Boggs, who's plumb convinced; 'if I'd waited +ontil you was heard, Sam, I'd never voiced them apprehensions. But the +fact is, this yere Monte cobra of ours, with his bibbin's an' his +guzzlin's, has redooced me to a condition of nervous prostration. It's +all right now. Which I will say, however, that I can't reeflect none +without a shudder on what them Tucson folks'll say an' think, so soon +as ever they wakes up to what's been played on 'em.'" + + + + +V + +HOW THE MOCKING BIRD WAS WON + + +"Myst'ries? + +"We lives surrounded by 'em. Look whar you will, nacher has a ace +buried. Take dogs, now: Why is it when one of 'em, daylight or dark, +cuts the trail of a anamile, he never makes the fool mistake of +back-trackin' it, but is shore to run his game the way it's movin'? +There must be some kind of head-an'-tail to the scent, that a-way, to +give the dog the hunch. Myst'ry!--all myst'ry! The more a gent goes +messin' 'round for s'lootions, the more he's taught hoomility an' that +he ain't knee-high to toads. + +"An' yet when it comes to things myster'ous everything else is bound +to go to the diskyard compared to a lady's heart. Of course, I speaks +only in a sperit of philos'phy, an' not as one who's suffered. I never +myse'f am able pers'nal to approach closter to a lady's heart than +across the street. Peets once reemarks that all trails leads to Rome. +In that business of trails a lady's heart has got Rome left standin' +sideways. Not only does every trail lead tharunto, but thar's sech a +thing as goin' cross-lots. Take gettin' in love; thar's as many ways +as cookin' eggs. While you'll see gents who goes skallyhootin' into +that dulcet condition as straight as a arrer, thar's others who sidles +in, an' still others who backs in. I even knows a boy who shoots his +way in. + +"Which the lady in this case is the Mockin' Bird. That Mockin' Bird +maiden has wooers by onbounded scores, but holds herse'f as shy an' as +much aloof as if she's a mountain sheep. Not one can get near enough +to her to give her a ripe peach. Along comes the eboolient Turkey +Track, bulges headlong into her dest'nies, takes to menacin' at her +with a gun an', final, to bombardin' her outright, an'--love an' heart +an' hand--she comes a-runnin'. + +"Wolfville's without that last evidence of advancement, a callaboose. +It bein' inconvenient to shoot up or lynch everybody who infringes our +rooles, Jack Moore invents a convincin' but innocuous punishment for +minor offenders. Endorsed by Enright, he established a water +trough--it's big enough to swim a dog--over by the windmill; an' when +some perfervid cow-puncher, sufferin' from a overdose of nosepaint, +takes to aggravatin' 'round Moore swashes him about in the trough some +profoose, ontil he gives his word to live a happier an' a better +life. + +"It's like magic the way that water trough works. No matter how gala +some pronghorn of a cowboy may feel, it shore lets the whey out of +him. Given the most voylent, it's only a matter of minutes before he's +soaked into quietood. Enright himse'f says Moore's entitled to a +monyooment for the idee. + +"Turkey Track's name is Ford, Tom Ford, but workin' that a-way for the +Turkey Track outfit he nacherally gets renamed for the brand. Turkey +Track an' two boon companions has been goin' to an' fro from the Red +Light to the Dance Hall, ontil by virchoo of a over-accumyoolation of +licker they're beginnin' to step some high. Also, they takes to +upliftin' their tired souls with yells, an' blazin' away at froote +cans with their six-shooters. + +"It gets so that Enright tells Moore to give 'em a call-down. + +"'What them boys does,' says Enright, 'is done harmless an' +light-hearted to be shore, an' nothin' radic'lly wrong is either +aimed at or meant; but all the same, Jack, it's no more'n proodence +to go knock their horns off. It ain't what them yooths is doin', but +what they may be led to do, which makes the danger. It's like old +Deacon Sopris at the Cumberland Methodist class meetin' says of +kyard-playin'. "It ain't," explains the deacon, "that thar's any harm +in the children playin' seven-up around the kitchen table of a +winter's evenin' for grains of corn, but seven-up persisted in is +shore to lead to dancin'." An' so with these young merry-makers. +They'll keep on slamin' away at empty bottles an' former tomatter cans +that a-way, ontil the more seedate element objects, an' somebody gets +downed. Don't you agree with me, Doc?' + +"'Nothin' shorer!' says Peets. + +"Moore corrals Turkey Track an' his fellow revellers, an' tosses off a +few fiats. + +"'Quit that whoopin' an' shootin', boys,' says Moore. 'Likewise, keep +your hardware in your belts, as more deecorous. So shore as I finds a +gun in any of your hands ag'in, I'll shoot it out.' + +"Turkey Track an' his _compadres_ don't say nothin' back. They savvys +about the water trough, an' ain't hungerin' none to have their ardor +dampened in no sech fashion. So they blinks an' winks like a passel of +squinch owls, but never onbuckles in no argyooment. All the same, it +irks 'em a whole lot, an' after Moore reetires they begins mod'rate to +arch their necks an' expand 'round a little. + +"They allows--talkin' among themselves in a quer'lous way--that they +ain't hurtin' no one, an' for Moore to come shovin' 'round an' +lecturin' on etiquette is a conceited exhibition of authority as +offensive as it is onjest. Thar's doubts, too, about it's bein' +constitootional. + +"'Whatever does that jim-crow sp'ile-sport of a marshal mean?' says +Turkey Track. 'It looks like he's not only deefyin' the organic law of +this country, but puttin' on a heap of dog. Does he reckon this yere +camp's a church?' + +"'I moves we treats them mandates,' says one of the boys, who's a +rider for the G-bar ranch, 'with merited contempt.' + +"'As how?' asks the third, who belongs with the Four-J brand. 'You +ain't so locoed as to s'ggest we-all t'ars person'ly into this Jack +Moore marshal none I hopes?' + +"'Which you fills me with disgust!' says the other, nettled at the +idee of pawin' the onprofit'ble grass 'round Moore; 'but whatever's +the matter with goin' up to the far end of the street, an' w'irl an' +come squanderin' back jest a shootin'?' + +"'Great!' says Turkey Track, applaudin' the scheme. 'Which we-all +nacherally shoots up their old prairie dog town, same as if it's a +Mexican plaza, an' then jogs on to our ranches, all triumphant an' +comfortable.' + +"The three rides up to the head of the street, an' then turns +an'--givin' their ponies the steel--comes whizzin' down through the +center of eevents, yelpin' like Apaches an' lookin' like fireworks. +They've got a gun in each hand, an' they shakes the flame an' smoke +out of 'em same as three volcanoes on hossback. + +"Moore's standin' in front of the Noo York store, talkin' to Tutt. As +you-all might imagine, it frets him to the quick to see how little +them effervescent sperits cares for his injunctions. By way of +rebooke--not wantin' to down 'em outright for what, take it the worst +way, ain't nothin' more heen'ous than a impropriety--Moore gets his +artillery to b'ar, an' as they flashes by like comets, opens on the +ponies. It's hard on the ponies; but it won't do to let them young +roysterers get away with their play. The example'll spread; an', +onless checked at the jump, inside of a month thar'd be nothin' but a +whoopin' procession of cow-punchers chargin' up an' down the +causeways. Tenderfeet might acquire misgivin's techin' us bein' a +peaceful camp, an' the thing op'rate as a blow to trade. It's become a +case of either get the boys or get the ponies, an' onder the +circumstances the ponies has the call. + +"Thar's no more artistic gun-player than Moore in town, onless it's +Cherokee, an' mebby Doc Peets, who's a heap soon with a derringer. As +the ponies flash by, Moore's six-shooter barks three times. Two ponies +goes rollin'; the third--it's Turkey Track's--continyoos cavortin' +down the street an' out of town. Turkey Track never pulls up nor looks +back. The last we sees of him is when he's two miles away, an' a +swell rises up behind him an' hides him from view. + +"The G-bar boy, an' him from the Four-J outfit, hits the grass twenty +feet ahead of their ponies, like a roll of blankets chucked out of a +wagon, an' after bumpin' an' tumblin' along for a rod or so, an' all +mighty condoosive to fractures an' dislocations, they flattens out +reespective same as a couple of cancelled postage stamps. Shore, the +fall jolts the savvy plumb out of 'em. + +"Bein' they're stretched out an' passive, Moore collects 'em an' sops +'em up an' down in the water trough for mebby it's fifteen minutes. +Which they're reesus'tated an' reeproved at one an' the same time. +When them yooths comes to, they're a model to angels. To be shore, +their intellects don't shine out at first none like the sun at noon, +but continyoos blurred for hours. Even as late as the weddin' of +Turkey Track with the Mockin' Bird--an' that ain't for all of eight +weeks--the G-bar boy informs Boggs confidenshul, as they're takin' a +little licker all sociable, that speakin' mental he's as yet a heap in +eeclipse. + +"The maiden name of the Mockin' Bird is Loocinda Gildersleeve, but +pop'lar pref'rence allers sticks to her stage title. She's a fav'rite +at the Bird Cage Op'ry House, at which nursery of the drammy she's +been singin' off an' on for somethin' like three years. She's a +shore-enough singer, too, the Mockin' Bird is. None of your yeepin's +an' peepin's, none of your mice squeaks an' tea-kettle tones an' cub +coyote yelps. Which she's got a round, meelod'yous bellow like a hound +in full cry, an' while she's singin' thar ain't a wolf'll open his +mouth within a mile of town. Which them anamiles is plumb abashed, the +Mockin' Bird outholdin' 'em to that degree. + +"You-all don't hear no sech singin' in the East. Thar ain't room; an' +moreover the East's too timid. For myse'f, an' I ain't got no y'ear +for music, them top notes of the Mockin' Bird, like the death yell of +a mountain lion, is cap'ble of givin' me the fantods; while the way +she hands out 'Home, Sweet Home' an' 'Suwannee River,' an' her voice +sort o' diggin' down into the soul, sets eemotional sports like Boggs +an' Black Jack to sobbin' as though their hearts is broke. She's +certainly a jo-darter of a vocalist--the Mockin' Bird is, an' once +when she renders 'Loosiana Loo' an' Boggs's more'n common affected, he +offers to bet yellow chips as high as the ceilin' she can sing the +sights off a Colt's .45. + +"'Which I enjoys one of the most mis'rable evenin's of my c'reer,' +says Boggs to Faro Nell, when she expresses sympathy at him feelin' so +cast down. 'I wouldn't have missed it for a small clay farm.' + +"'_Yo tambien_' says Black Jack, who's keepin' Boggs melancholly +company while he weeps. 'Only I reckons the odd kyard in my own case +is that, before I'm a man an' in some other existence, I used to be +one of these yere ornery little fice dogs, which howls every time it +hears a pianny. It's some left-over vestiges of that life when I'm a +dog which sets me to bawlin', that a-way, whenever the Mockin' Bird +girl sings. I experiences pensive sensations, sim'lar to what comes +troopin' over a gent, who's libatin' alone, on the heels of the third +drink.' + +"The Mockin' Bird looks as sweet as she sings. I mentions long ago +about the phil'sophic old stoodent who says, 'They do say love is +blind, but I'll be ding-danged if some gents can't see more in their +girls than I can.' This yere wisdom don't apply none to the Mockin' +Bird. Them wooers of hers, to say nothin' of Turkey Track, possesses +jestification for becomin' so plumb maudlin'. Lovely? She's as pretty +as a cactus flower, or a sunrise on the staked plains. + +"Folks likes her, too. Take that evenin' when a barbarian from over +to'ards the Cow Springs cuts loose to disturb the exercises at the +Bird Cage Op'ry House with a measly fling or two. The public well nigh +beefs him. They'd have shore put him over the jump, only Enright +interferes. + +"It's doorin' the openin' scene, when the actors is camped 'round in a +half-circle, facin' the fiddlers. Huggins, who manages the Bird Cage, +an' who's the only hooman who ever consoomes licker, drink for drink, +with Monte, an' lives to tell the tale, is in the middle. Bowin' to +the Mockin' Bird, an' as notice that she's goin' to carol some, he +announces: + +"'The world-reenowned cantatrice, Mam'selle Loocinda Gildersleeve, +cel'brated in two hemispheres as the Mockin' Bird of Arizona, will now +sing the ballad wharwith she ravished the y'ears of every crowned +head of Europe, the same bein' that pop'lar air from the op'ry of +_Loocretia Borgia_, "Down in the Valley."' + +"At this that oncooth crim'nal from the Cow Springs gets up: + +"'The Mockin' Bird of Arizona which you-all is bluffin' about,' he +shouts, 'can't sing more'n a burro, an' used to sling hash in a +section house over by Colton.' + +"'Never the less, notwithstandin',' replies Huggins, who's too drunk +to feel ruffled, 'Mam'selle Loocinda Gildersleeve, known to all the +world as the Mockin' Bird of Arizona, will now sing "Down in the +Valley."' + +"Huggins would have let things go at that, but not so the Wolfville +pop'lace. In the cockin' of a winchester they swoops down on that Cow +Springs outcast like forty hen-hawks on a single quail, an' as I +yeretofore observes, if it ain't for Enright they'd have made him +shortly hard to find. You can gamble, the Cow Springs savage never +does go out on that limb ag'in. + +"While Turkey Track escapes the water trough, an' makes his getaway +that time all right, the pore pony ain't got by Moore onscathed. The +bullet hits him jest to the r'ar of the saddle-flap, an' out about a +brace of miles he stumbles over dead. + +"It's yere eevents begins to fall together like a shock of oats. The +Mockin' Bird's been over entrancin' Tucson, an' the reg'lar stage with +Monte not preecisely dove-tailin' with her needs, she charters a +speshul buckboard to get back. Thar's a feeble form of hooman ground +owl drivin' her, one of these yere parties who's all alkali an' hard +luck, an' as deevoid of manly sperit as jack-rabbits onweaned. + +"This yere ground owl party, drivin' for the Mockin' Bird, comes +clatterin' along with the buckboard jest as Turkey Track strips the +saddle an' bridle from his deefunct pony. Turkey Track is not without +execyootive ability, an' seein' he's afoot an' thirty miles from his +home ranch, he pulls his gun an' sticks up the buckboard plenty +prompt. At the mere sight of a weepon the hands of that young +owl-person goes searchin' for stars, an' he's beggin' Turkey Track not +to rub him out--him thinkin' it's a reg'lar hold-up. That's all the +opp'sition thar is, onless you counts the reemarks of the Mockin' +Bird, who becomes both bitter an' bitin' in equal parts, but has no +more effect on Turkey Track--an' him afoot that a-way--than pourin' +water on a drowned rat. Shore, a cow-puncher'd fight all day, an' even +face a enraged female, before he'd walk a hour. + +[Illustration: TURKEY TRACK, SEEIN' HE'S AFOOT AN' THIRTY MILES FROM HIS +HOME RANCH PULLS HIS GUN AN' STICKS UP THE MOCKIN' BIRD'S BUCKBOARD. +p. 138.] + +"Turkey Track piles his saddle an' bridle onto the r'ar of the +buckboard, an' settin' in behind on his plunder, commands the ground +owl driver to head west till further orders. Likewise, he so far +onbends as to say that them orders won't be deecem'nated, none +whatever, ontil he's landed at the Turkey Track home ranch. Since he +backs this yere programme with his artillery, the ground owl ain't got +nothin' to say, an' it's no time when the outfit's weavin' along a +side trail in the sole int'rests of Turkey Track. + +"What's worse, to dispell the ennui of sech a trip, an' drive away +dull care, Turkey Track takes to despotizin' over the Mockin' Bird +with his six-shooter, an' compels her to sing constant throughout them +thirty miles. He makes her carrol everythin' from 'Old Hundred' to +'Turkey in the Straw,' an' then brings her back to 'Old Hundred' an' +starts her over. The pore harassed Mockin' Bird, what with the dust, +an' what with Turkey Track tyrannizin' at her with his gun, sounds +final like an ongreased wheelbarrow which has seen better days. She +don't get her voice ag'in for mighty clost to a month, an' even then, +as she says herse'f, thar's places where the rivets reequires +tightenin'. + +"It's pressin' onto eight weeks before ever Turkey Track is heard of +'round town ag'in. Also, it's in the Bird Cage Op'ry House he hits the +surface of his times. The Mockin' Bird has jest done drove the vocal +picket-pin of 'Old Kentucky Home,' when, bang! some loonatic shoots at +her. Which the bullet bores a hole in the scenery not a foot above her +head. + +"Every one sees by the smoke whar that p'lite attention em'nates from, +an' before you could count two, Moore, Boggs, an' Texas Thompson has +convened themselves on top of that ident'cal spot. Thar sets Turkey +Track, cryin' like a child. + +"'It's no use, gents,' he sobs, the tears coursin' down his cheeks, +'she's so plumb bewitchin', an' I adores her so, I simply has to blaze +away or bust.' + +"While he don't harm the Mockin' Bird none, the sent'ment of the +Stranglers, when Enright raps 'em to order inform'ly at the Red Light +an' Black Jack has organized the inspiration, favors hangin' Turkey +Track. Even Texas, who loathes ladies by reason of what's been sawed +off onto him in the way of divorce an' alimony, that a-way, by his +Laredo wife, is yoonan'mous for swingin' him off. + +"'That I don't believe in marryin' 'em,' says Texas, expoundin' his +p'sition concernin' ladies in answer to Boggs who claims he's +inconsistent, 'don't mean I wants 'em killed. But you never was no +logician, Dan.' + +"Cherokee's the only gent who's inclined to softer attitoodes, an' +that leeniency is born primar'ly of the inflooence of Nell. Nell is +plumb romantic, an' when she hears how the Turkey Track's been +enfiladin' at the Mockin' Bird only because he loves her, while she +don't reely know what she does want done with that impossible +cow-puncher, she shore don't want him hanged. + +"'It's sech a interestin' story!' says Nell, an' then capers across to +Missis Rucker an' Tucson Jennie to c'llect their feelin's. + +"Moore brings in Turkey Track. + +"'Be you-all tryin' to blink out this yere young lady?' asks Enright, +'or is that gun play in the way of applause?' + +"'It's love,' protests Turkey Track, his voice chokin'; 'it's simply a +cry from the soul. I learns to love her that day on the buckboard +while I'm lookin' at her red ha'r, red bein' my winnin' color. Gents, +you-all won't credit it none, but jest the same them auburn tresses +gets wropped about my heart.' + +"'Whatever do you make of it, Doc?' whispers Enright. + +"'This boy,' returns Peets, 'has got himse'f too much on his own mind. +He's sufferin' from what the books calls exaggerated ego.' + +"'That's one way of bein' locoed, ain't it?' + +"'Shore. But him bein' twisted mental ain't no reason for not adornin' +the windmill with his remains. The only public good a hangin' does is +to scare folks up a lot, an' you can scare a loonatic quite as quick +an' quite as hard as a gent whose intellects is plumb.' + +"'Thar she stands,' Turkey Track breaks in ag'in, not waitin' for no +questions, 'an' me as far below her as stingin' lizards is from stars! +Then, ag'in, when folks down in front is a'plaudin' her, she wavin' +at 'em meanwhile the gracious smile, it makes me jealous. Gents, I +don't plan nothin', but the first I knows I lugs out the old .45 an' +onhooks it.' + +"The Mockin' Bird has come over from the O. K. House with Nell, Missis +Rucker an' Tucson Jennie. As she hears Turkey Track's confession two +drops shows in her eyes like diamonds. Clutchin' hold of Nell, an' +with Missis Rucker an' Tucson Jennie flockin' along in the r'ar, she +rushes out the front door. + +"This manoover leaves us some upset, ontil Nell returns to explain. + +"'She's overcome by them disclosures,' says Nell, 'an' goes outside to +blush.' + +"'The ontoward breaks of that songstress,' observes Enright oneasily, +'has a tendency to confoose the issue, an' put this committee in the +hole.' + +"'Thar's nothin' confoosin' about it, Sam Enright.' It's Missis Rucker +who breaks out high an' threatenin', she havin' come back with Nell. +'This yere Mockin' Bird girl's in love with that gun-playin' cowboy, +an' it's only now she finds it out. Do you-all murderers still insist +on hangin' this yere boy, or be you willin' to see 'em wed an' live +happy ever after?' + +"'Let's rope up a divine some'ers,' exclaims Boggs, 'an' have 'em +married. If that Mockin' Bird girl wants Turkey Track she shall shore +have him. I'd give her his empty head on a charger, if she asks it, +same as that party in holy writ, she singin' "Suwannee River" like she +does.' + +"Cherokee, who's more or less rooled by Nell, thinks a weddin' the +proper step, an' Tutt, who sees somethin' in Tucson Jennie's eye, +declar's himse'f some hasty. + +"Even Texas backs the play. + +"'But make no mistake,' says Texas; 'I insists on wedlock over +lynchin' only because it's worse.' + +"'Which it's as well, Sam Enright,' observes Missis Rucker, blowin' +through her nose mighty warlike, 'that you an' your marauders has +sense enough to see your way through to that deecision. Which if you'd +failed, I'd have took this Turkey Track boy away from you-all with my +own hands. This Vig'lance Committee needn't think it's goin' to do as +it pleases 'round yere--hangin' folks for bein' in love, an' closin' +its y'ears to the moans of a bleedin' heart.' + +"'My dear ma'am,' says Enright, his manner mollifyin'; 'I sees nothin' +to discuss. The committee surrenders this culprit into the hands of +you-all ladies, an' what more is thar to say?' + +"'Thar's this more to say,' an' Missis Rucker's that earnest her mouth +snaps like a trap. 'You an' your gang, settin' round like a passel of +badgers, don't want to get it into your heads that you're goin' to run +rough-shod over me. When I gets ready to have my way in this outfit, +the prairie dog that stands in my path'll shore wish he'd never been +born.' + +"Enright don't say nothin' back, an' the balance of us maintainin' a +dignified silence, Missis Rucker, after a look all 'round, withdraws, +takin' with her Tucson Jennie an' Nell, Turkey Track in their midst. + +"'Gents,' observes Enright, when they're shore departed, an' speakin' +up deecisive, 'ways must be deevised to 'liminate the feminine element +from these yere meetin's. I says this before, but the idee don't seem +to take no root. Thar's nothin' lovelier than woman, but by virchoo +of her symp'thies she's oncap'ble of exact jestice. Her feelin's lead +her, an' her heart's above her head. For which reasons, while I +wouldn't favor nothin' so ondignified as hidin' out, I s'ggests that +we be yereafter more circumspect, not to say surreptitious, in our +deelib'rations.' + +"Shore, they're married. The cer'mony comes off in the O. K. House, +an' folks flocks in from as far away as Deming. + +"'If you was a chemist, Sam,' says Peets, tryin' to eloocidate what +happens when the Mockin' Bird learns she's heart-hungry that a-way for +Turkey Track, 'you'd onderstand. It's as though her love's held in +s'lootion, an' the jar of Turkey Track's gun preecip'tates it.' + +"'Mebby so,' returns Enright; 'but as a play, this thing's got me +facin' back'ards. Thar's many schemes to win a lady, but this yere's +the earliest instance when a gent shoots his way into her arms.' + +"'Well,' returns Peets, 'you know the old adage--to which of course +thar's exceptions.' Yere he glances over at Missis Rucker. 'It runs: + + "A woman, a spaniel an' a walnut tree, + The more you beat 'em the better they be." + +"Boggs has been congratchoolatin' Turkey Track, an' kissin' the bride. +Texas, as somber as a spade flush, draws Boggs into a corner. + +"'That Turkey Track,' says Texas, 'considers this a whipsaw. He misses +hangin', an' he gets the lady. He feels like he wins both ways. Wait! +Dan, it won't be two years when he'll discover that, compar'd to +marriage, hangin' that a-way ain't nothin' more'n a technical'ty.'" + + + + +VI + +THAT WOLFVILLE-RED DOG FOURTH + + +"By nacher I'm a patriot, cradle born and cradle bred; my Americanism, +second to none except that of wolves an' rattlesnakes an' Injuns an' +sim'lar cattle, comes in the front door an' down the middle aisle; an' +yet, son, I'm free to reemark that thar's one day in the year, an' +sometimes two, when I shore reegrets our independence, an' wishes thar +had been no Yorktown an' never no Bunker Hill." + +The old cattleman tasted his glass with an air weary to the borders of +dejection; after which he took a pathetic puff at his pipe. I knew +what had gone wrong. This was the Fifth of July. We had just survived +a Fourth of unusual explosiveness, and the row and racket thereof had +worn threadbare the old gentleman's nerves. + +"Yes, sir," he continued, shoving a 'possum-colored lock back from his +brow, "as I suffers through one of them calamities miscalled +cel'brations, endoorin' the slang-whangin' of the orators an' bracin' +myse'f ag'inst the slam-bangin' of the guns, to say nothin' of the +firecrackers an' kindred Chinese contraptions, I a'preeciates the +feelin's of that Horace Walpole person Colonel Sterett quotes in his +_Daily Coyote_ as sayin', 'I could love my country, if it ain't for my +countrymen.' + +"Still, comin' down to the turn, I reckon it merely means, when all is +in, that I'm gettin' too plumb old for comfort. It's five years now +since I dare look in the glass, for fear I'd be tempted to count the +annyooal wrinkles on my horns. + +"It's mighty queer about folks. Speakin' of cel'brations, for +thousands of years the only way folks has of expressin' any feelin' of +commoonal joy, that a-way, is to cut loose in limitless an' onmeanin' +uproar. Also, their only notion of a public fest'val is for one half +of the outfit to prance down the middle of the street, while the other +half banks itse'f ag'inst the ediotic curb an' looks at 'em. + +"People in the herd ain't got no intelligence. We speaks of the lower +anamiles as though we just has it on 'em completely in the matter of +intelligence, but for myse'f I ain't so shore. The biggest fool of a +mule-eared deer savvys enough to go feedin' up the wind, makin' so to +speak a skirmish line of its nose to feel out ambushes. Any old bull +elk possesses s'fficient wisdom to walk in a half-mile circle, as a +concloodin' act before reetirin' for the night, so that with him +asleep in the center, even if the wind does shift, his nose'll still +get ample notice of whatever man or wolf may take to followin' his +trail. + +"That's what them 'lower anamiles' does. An' now I asks, what man, +goin' about his numbskull dest'nies, lookin' as plumb wise as a +too-whoo owl at noon, ever shows gumption equal to keepin' the +constant wind in his face, or has the sense to go walkin' round +himse'f as he rolls into his blankets, same as that proodent elk? +After all, I takes it that these yere Fo'th of Jooly upheavals is only +one among the ten thousand fashions in which hoomanity eternally +onbuckles in expressin' its imbecil'ty. + +"Which I certainly do get a heap disgusted at times with the wild +beast called man. With all his bluffs about bein' so mighty sagacious, +I can sit yere an' see that, speakin' mental, he ain't better than an +even break with turkey gobblers. Even what he calls his science turns +finally out with him to be but the accepted ignorance of to-day; an' +he puts in every to-morrow of his existence provin' what a onbounded +jackass rabbit he's been the day before. It's otherwise with them +lower anamiles; what they knows they knows." + +Plainly, something had to be done to fortify my old friend. I fell +back, quite as a matter of course, upon that first aid to the injured, +another drink, and motioned the black waiter to the rescue. It did my +old friend good, that drink, the first fruits of which easier if not +better condition being certain fresh accusations against himself. + +"The trooth is, I'm a whole lot onused to these yere Fo'th of Jooly +outbursts; an' so I ondoubted suffers from 'em more keenly, that +a-way, than the av'rage gent. You see we never has none of 'em in +Wolfville; leastwise we never does but once. On that single festive +occasion we shore stubs our toe some plentiful, stubs it to that +degree, in fact, that we never feels moved to buck the game ag'in. +Once is enough for Wolfville. + +"Which it's the single failure that stains the fame of the camp. At +that, the flat-out reely belongs to Red Dog; or at least to Pete +Bland, for which misguided party the Red Dogs freely acknowledges +reespons'bility as belongin' to their outfit. + +"This yere Bland's dead now an' deep onder the doomsday sods. Also, he +died drinkin' like he'd lived. + +"'What's the malady?' Enright asks Peets, when the Doc comes trackin' +back, after seein' the finish of Bland. + +"'No malady at all, Sam,' says Peets, plumb cheerful an' frisky, same +as them case-hardened drug folks allers is when some other sport +passes in his checks--'no malady whatsoever. His jag simply stops on +centers, as a railroad gent'd say, an' I'm onable to start it ag'in.' + +"Was Peets any good as a med'cine man? Son, I'm shocked! Peets is +packin' 'round in his professional warbags the dipplomies of twenty +colleges, an' is onchallenged besides as the best eddicated sharp +personal on the sunset side of the Mississippi. You bet, he +onderstands the difference at least between bread pills an' buckshot, +which is a heap sight further than some of these yere drug folks ever +studies. + +"Colonel Sterett, who's fa'rly careful about what he says, reefers to +Peets in his _Daily Coyote_ as a 'intellectchooal giant,' an' thar +ain't no record of any scoffer comin' squanderin' along to contradict. +Mebby you'll say that the omission to do so is doo to the f'rocious +attitoode of the _Daily Coyote_ itse'f, techin' contradictions, an' +p'int to how that imprint keeps standin' at the head of its editorial +columns as a motto, the cynicism: + +"'Contradict the _Coyote_ and avoid old age!' + +"Thar'd be nothin' in it if you do. That motto's only one of Colonel +Sterett's bluffs, one of his witticisms that a-way. You don't reckon +that, in a sparsely settled country, whar the pop'lation is few an' +far between, the Colonel's goin' to go bumpin' off a subscriber over +mebby a mere difference of opinion? The Colonel ain't quite that +locoed." + +"But about your Wolfville-Red Dog Fourth of July celebration?" I +urged. + +"Which I'm in no temper to tell a story--me settin' yere with every +nerve as tight as a banjo catgut jest before it snaps. To reelate +yarns your mood ought to be the mood of the racontoor--a mood as rich +an' rank an' upstandin' as a field of wheat, ready to billow an' bend +before every gale of fancy. The way yesterday leaves me, whatever tale +I ondertakes to reecount would about come out of my mouth as stiff an' +short an' brittle as chopped hay. Also, as tasteless. Better let it go +till some other an' more mellow evenin'." + +No; I was ready to accept the chances, and said as much. A chopped-hay +style, for a change, might be found acceptable. Supplementing the +declaration with renewed Old Jordan, I was so far victorious that my +aged man of cattle yielded. + +"Well, then," he began reluctantly, "I'm onable to partic'larly say +which gent does make the orig'nal s'ggestion, but my belief is it's +Peets. I'm shore, however, that the Cornwallis idee comes from Bland; +an', since it's not only at that Cornwallis angle we-all falls +publicly down, but the same is primar'ly doo to the besotted obstinacy +of this yere Bland himse'f, Wolfville, while ever proudly willin' to +b'ar whatever blame's sawed off on to her shoulders proper, is always +convinced that Red Dog an' not us is to be held accountable. However, +Bland's gone an' paid what the sky scouts speaks of as the debt to +nacher, an' I'm willin' to confess for one that when he's sober he +ain't so bad. Not that them fits of sobriety is either so freequent or +so protracted they takes on any color of monotony. + +"Bland's baptismal name is Pete, an' in his way he's a leadin' +inflooence in Red Dog. He's owner of the 7-bar-D outfit, y'earmark a +swallow-fork in both y'ears--which brands seventeen hundred calves +each spring round-up; an' is moreover proprietor of the Abe Lincoln +Hotel, the same bein' Red Dog's principal beanery. Bland don't have to +keep this yere tavern none, but it arranges so he sees his friends an' +gets their _dinero_ at one an' the same time, which as combinin' +business an' pleasure in equal degrees appeals to him a heap. + +"Which it's the gen'ral voice that the best thing about Bland is his +wife. She's shore loyal to Bland, you bet! When they're livin' in +Prescott, an' a committee of three from one of them 'Purification Of +The Home' societies comes trapesin' in, to tell her about Bland bein' +ondooly interested in a exyooberant young soobrette who's singin' at +the theayter, an' spendin' his money on her mighty permiscus, Missis +Bland listens plenty ca'm ontil they're plumb through. Then she hands +them Purifiers this: + +"'Well, ladies, I'd a heap sooner have a husband who can take keer of +two women than a husband who can't take keer of one.' + +"After which she comes down on that Purification bunch like a fallin' +star, an' brooms 'em out of the house. Accordin' to eye witnesses, who +speaks without prejewdyce, she certainly does dust their bunnets +strenuous. + +"When Bland hears he pats Missis Bland on the shoulder, an' exclaims, +'Thar's my troo-bloo old Betsy Jane! She knows I wouldn't trade a look +from them faded old gray eyes of hers for all the soobretts whoever +pulls a frock on over their heads!' + +"Followin' which encomium Bland sends to San Francisco an' changes in +the money from five hundred steers for an outfit of diamonds, to go +'round her neck, an' preesents 'em to Missis Bland. + +"'Thar,' he says, danglin' them gewgaws in the sun, 'you don't notice +no actresses flittin' about the scene arrayed like that, do you? If +so, p'int out them over-bedecked females, an' I'll see all they've got +on an' go 'em five thousand better, if it calls for every 7-bar-D +steer on the range.' + +"'Pete,' says Missis Bland, clampin' on to the jooelry with one hand, +an' slidin' the other about his neck, 'you certainly are the kindest +soul who ever makes a moccasin track in Arizona, besides bein' a good +provider.' + +"Shore, this yere Bland ain't so plumb bad. + +"An' after a fashion, too, he's able to give excooses. Talkin' to +Peets, he lays his rather light an' frisky habits to him bein' a +preacher's son. + +"'Which you never, Doc,' he says, 'meets up with the son an' heir of a +pulpiteer that a-way, who ain't pullin' on the moral bit, an' tryin' +for a runaway.' + +"'At any rate, Pete,' the Doc replies, all cautious an' conservative, +'I will say that if you're lookin' for some party who'll every day be +steady an' law abidin', not to say seedate, you'll be a heap more +likely to find him by searchin' about among the progeny of some party +who's been lynched.' + +"Recurrin' again to that miserabul Fo'th of Jooly play we cuts loose +in, it's that evenin' when we invites Red Dog over in a body to he'p +consoome the left-over stock of lickers in the former Votes For Women +S'loon, an' nacherally thar's some drinkin'. As is not infrequent whar +thar's drinkin', views is expressed an' prop'sitions made. It's then +we takes up the business of havin' that cel'bration. + +"Peets makes a speech, I recalls, an' after dilatin' 'round to the +effect that Fo'th of Jooly ain't but two weeks ahead, allows that it'd +be in patriotic line for us to do somethin'. + +"'Conj'intly,' says Peets, 'Red Dog an' Wolfville, movin' together +with one proud purpose of patriotism, ought to put over quite a show. +As commoonities we're no longer in the swaddlin' clothes of infancy. +It's time, too, that we goes on record as a whole public in some +manner an' form best calk'lated to make a somnolent East set up an' +notice us.' + +"Peets continyoos in a sim'lar vein, an' speaks of the settlement of +the Southwest, wharin we b'ars our part, as a 'Exodus without a +prophet, a croosade without a cross,' which sent'ment he confesses he +takes from a lit'rary sport, but no less troo for that. He closes by +sayin' that if everybody feels like he does Wolfville an' Red Dog'll +j'ine in layin' out a program, that a-way, which'll shore spread the +glorious trooth from coast to coast that we-all is on the map to +stay. + +"It's a credit to both outfits, how yoonanimously the s'ggestion is +took up. Which I never does see a public go all one way so plumb +quick, an' with so little struggle, since B'ar Creek Stanton is +lynched; which act of jestice even has the absoloote endorsement of +B'ar Creek himse'f. + +"Peets is no sooner done talkin' than Tutt stacks in. + +"'Thar's our six-shooters,' says he, 'for the foosilade; an', as for +moosic, sech as "Columbia the Gem" an' the "Star Spangled Banner," we +can round up them Dutchmen, who's the orchestra over at the Bird Cage +Op'ry House.' + +"The talk rambles on, one word borryin' another, ontil we outlines +quite a game. Thar's to be a procession between Wolfville an' Red +Dog, an' back ag'in, Faro Nell leadin' the same on a _pinto_ pony as +the Goddess of Liberty. + +"'An' that reeminds me,' submits Cherokee, when we reaches Nell; +'thar's Missis Rucker. It's goin' to hurt her feelin's to be left out. +As the preesidin' genius of the O. K. Restauraw she's in shape to give +us a racket we'll despise in eevent she gets her back up.' + +"'How about lettin' her in on the play,' says Boggs, 'an' typ'fyin' +Jestice, that a-way?' + +"'Thar's a idee, Dan,' says Texas Thompson, 'which plugs the center, a +reecommendation which does you proud! Down in that Laredo Co't House +whar my wife wins out her divorce that time, thar's a figger of +Jestice painted on the wall. Shore, it don't mean nothin'; but all the +same it's thar, dressed in white, that a-way, with eyes bandaged, an' +packin' a sword in one hand an' holdin' aloft some balances in +t'other. Come to think of it, too, that picture shore looks a lot like +Missis Rucker in the face, bein' plumb haughty an' commandin'.' + +"'Missis Rucker not bein' yere none,' says Enright softly, an' +peerin' about some cautious, 'I submits that while no more esteemable +lady ever tosses a flapjack or fries salt-hoss in a pan, her figger is +mebby jest a trifle too abundant. As Jestice, she'll nacherally be +arrayed--as Texas says--in white, same as Nell as the Goddess. I don't +want to seem technicle, but white augments the size of folks an' will +make the lady in question look bigger'n a load of hay.' + +"'Even so,' reemarks the Red Dog chief indulgently, 'would that of +itse'f, I asks, be reckoned any setback? The lady will person'fy +Jestice; an' as sech I submits she can't look none too big.' + +"In compliment to the Red Dog chief Enright, with a p'lite flourish, +allows that he yields his objection with pleasure, an' Missis Rucker +is put down for Jestice. It's agreed likewise to borry a coach from +the stage company for her to ride on top. + +"'Her bein' preeclooded,' explains Peets, 'from ridin' a hoss that +a-way, as entirely ondignified if not onsafe. We can rig her up a +throne with one of the big splint-bottom cha'rs from the Red Light, +an' wrop the same in the American flag so's to make it look +offishul.' + +"Tucson Jennie, with little Enright Peets as the Hope of the Republic, +is to ride inside the coach. + +"Havin' got this far, Pete Bland submits that a tellin' number would +be a sham battle, Red Dog ag'in Wolfville. + +"Thar's opp'sition developed to this. Both Enright an' the Red Dog +chief, as leaders of pop'lar feelin', is afraid that some sport'll +forget that it ain't on the level, an' take to over-actin' his part. + +"As the Red Dog chief expresses it: + +"'Some gent might be so far carried away by enthoosiasm as to go to +shootin' low, an' some other gent get creased.' + +"'The same bein' my notion exact,' Enright chips in. 'Of course, the +gent who thus shoots low would ondenyably do so onintentional; but +what good would that do the party who's been winged, an' who mightn't +live long enough to receive apol'gies?' + +"'That's whatever!' says Jack Moore. 'A sham battle's too plumb apt to +prove a snare. The more, since everybody's so onused to 'em 'round +yere. A gent, by keepin' his mind firm fixed, might manage to miss +once or twice; but soon or late he'd become preoccupied, an' bust some +of the opp'sition before he could ketch himse'f.' + +"Bland, seein' opinion's ag'inst a sham battle, withdraws the motion, +an' does it plenty graceful for a gent who's onable to stand. + +"'Enough said,' he remarks, wavin' a acquiescent paw. 'Ante, an' pass +the buck.' + +"The Lightnin' Bug, speakin' from the Red Dog side, insists that in +the reg'lar course of things thar's bound to be oratory. In that +connection he mentions a sharp who lives in Phoenix. + +"'Which I'm shore,' says the Bug, 'he'd be gladly willin' to assist; +an' you hear me he's got a tongue of fire! Some of you-all sports must +have crossed up with him--Jedge Beebe of Phoenix?' + +"'Jedge Beebe?' interjecks Monte, who's given a hostler his proxy to +take out the stage because of thar bein' onlimited licker; 'me an' the +Jedge stands drinkin' together for hours the last time he's in Tucson. +But you're plumb wrong, Bug, about him bein' eloquent.' + +"'Wrong?' the Bug repeats, mighty indignant. + +"'Of course,' says Monte, rememberin' how easy heated the Bug is, an' +that he looks on six-shooters as argyooments, 'I don't mean he can't +talk none; only he ain't what the Doc yere calls no Demosthenes.' + +"'Did you ever hear the Jedge talk?' demands the Bug. + +"'Which I shore does,' insists Monte; 'I listens to him for two hours +that time in Tucson. It's when they opens the Broadway Dance Hall.' + +"'Whatever is his subject?' asks the Bug, layin' for to ketch Monte; +'what's the Jedge talkin' about?' + +"'I don't know,' says Monte, wropped in his usual mantle of +whiskey-soaked innocence; 'he didn't say.' + +"The Bug's eyes comes together in a angry focus; he thinks he's bein' +made game of. + +"Tharupon Enright cuts in. + +"'Bug,' he says, all sociable an' suave, 'you mustn't mind Monte. He's +so misconstructed that followin' the twenty-fifth drink he goes about +takin' his ignorance for information. No one doubts but you're a heap +better jedge than him of eloquence, an' everything else except +nosepaint. S'ppose you consider yourse'f a committee to act for the +con'jint camps, an' invite this yere joorist to be present as orator +of the day.' + +"The Bug's brow cl'ars at this, an' he asshores Enright that he'll be +proud to act as sech. + +"'An', gents,' he adds, 'if you says he ain't got Patrick Henry beat +to a standstill, may I never hold as good as aces-up ag'in.' + +"The Red Dog chief announces that all hands must attend a free-for-all +banquet which, inflooenced by the tenth drink, he then an' thar +decides to give at Bland's Abe Lincoln House. + +"'Said banquet,' he explains, 'bein' in the nacher of a lunch to be +held at high noon. If the dinin' room of the Abe Lincoln House ain't +spacious enough, an I'll say right yere it ain't, we'll teetotaciously +set them tables in the street. That's my style! I wants everybody, bar +Mexicans, to be present. When I gives a blow-out, I goes fo'th into +the highways an' byways, an' asks the halt an' the lame an' the +blind, like the good book says. Also, no gent need go prowlin' 'round +for no weddin' garments wharin to come. Which he's welcome to show up +in goat-skin laiggin's, or appear wropped in the drippin' an' +offensive pelt of a wet dog.' + +"The Red Dog chief, lest some of us is sens'tive, goes on to add that +no gent is to regyard them cracks about the halt an' the lame an' the +blind as aimed at Wolfville. He allows he ain't that invidious, an' in +what he says is merely out to be both euphonious an' explicit, that +a-way, at one an' the same time. + +"To which Enright reesponds that no offence is took, an' asshores the +Red Dog chief that Wolfville will attend the banquet all spraddled +out. + +"More licker, followed by gen'ral congratulations. + +"Bland ag'in comes surgin' to the fore. This time he thinks that as a +main feachure it would be a highly effective racket to reënact the +surrender of Cornwallis to Washington. + +"Tutt goes weavin' across to shake his hand. + +"'Some folks allows, Pete,' says Tutt, 'that you're as whiskey-soaked +an old fool as Monte. But not me, Pete, not your old pard, Dave Tutt! +An' you hear me, Pete, that idee about Cornwallis givin' up his sword +to Washington dem'nstrates it.' + +"'You bet your life it does!' says Bland. + +"'But is this yere surrender feasible?' asks Texas. 'Which, at first +blink, it seems some cumbrous to me.' + +"'It's as easy as turnin' jack,' declar's Tutt, takin' the play away +from Bland. 'I've seen it done.' + +"'As when an' whar?' puts in Cherokee. + +"'Thar's a time,' says Tutt--'it's way back--when I sets into a little +poker game over in El Paso, table stakes she is, an' cleans up for +about $10,000. For mebby a week I goes 'round thinkin' that $10,000 is +a million; an' after that I simply _knows_ it is. These yere +onnacheral riches onhinges me to a p'int whar I deecides I'll visit +Chicago an' Noo York, as calk'lated to broaden me.' + +"'Noo York!--Chicago!' interrupts the Bug. 'I once deescends upon them +hamlets, an' I encounters this yere strikin' difference. In Chicago +they wouldn't let me spend a dollar, while in Noo York they wouldn't +let anybody else spend one.' + +"'It's otherwise with me,' goes on Tutt, 'because for a wind-up I +don't see neither. I'm young then, d' you see, an' affected by yooth +an' wealth I takes to licker, with the result that I goes pervadin' up +an' down the train, insistin' on becomin' person'ly known to the +passengers.' + +"'An' nacherally you gets put off,' says Boggs. + +"'Not exactly, neither. Only the conductor, assisted by a bevy of +brakemen, lays the thing before me in sech a convincin' shape that I +gets off of my own accord. It seems that to be agree'ble, I proposes +wedlock to a middle-aged schoolmarm, who allows that she sees no +objection except I'm a perfect stranger. She says it ain't been +customary with her much to go weddin' strangers that a-way, but if +I'll get myse'f reg'larly introdooced, an' then give her a day or so +to become used to my looks, she'll go me. It's then the conductor +draws me aside, an' says, "I've a son about your age, my eboolient +young sport, which is why I takes your part. My theery is that if you +sticks aboard this train ontil we reaches Rock Island, you'll never +leave that village a single man." + +"'This sobers me,' Tutt continyoos, 'an' I hides in the baggage kyar +ontil we reaches a camp called Sedalia, whar I quietly makes my +escape. I'm that reelieved I gives the cabman $20 to let me drive, an' +then starts in to wake things up. Which I shore wakes 'em! I comes +down the main street like the breath of destiny; an', say, you ought +to see them Missourians climb trees, an' gen'rally break for cover! It +costs me $50; an' the jedge gives me his word that, only it's the +Fo'th of Jooly, he'd have handed me two weeks in the calaboose. I +clinks down the fifty _pesos_ some grateful, an' goes bulgin' forth to +witness the cer'monies. She's a jo-darter, that Sedalia cel'bration +is! As Pete yere recommends, they pulls off the surrender of +Cornwallis on the Fair grounds. Also, it's plumb easy. All you needs +is mebby a couple of hundred folks on hosses, an' after that the +rest's like rollin' off a log.' + +"More is said as the drink goes round, an' Cornwallis surrenderin' +to Washington takes hold of our imaginations. We throws dice, +an' settles it that Red Dog'll be the English, with Bland as +Cornwallis, while Wolfville acts as the Americans, Boggs to perform +as Washington--Boggs bein' six foot an' some inches, besides as +wide as a door. By the time we gets the stock of the Votes for +Women S'loon fully drinked up everything's arranged. + +"Onless you sees no objections, son, I'll gallop through the balance +of this yere painful eepisode. The day comes round, bright an' +cl'ar, an' the Copper Queen people gen'rously starts the ball +a-rollin' by explodin' thirteen cans of powder, one for each of +the orig'nal states. Then the procession forms, Nell in front as the +Goddess. Thar's full two hundred of us, Wolfville an' Red Dog, on +ponies. As to Missis Rucker, she's on top of the coach as Jestice, +Tucson Jennie--with little Enright Peets lookin' like a young he +cherub--inside, an' Monte pullin' the reins over the six hosses. +We makes four trips between Wolfville an' Red Dog, crackin' off +our good old '45s at irreg'lar intervals, Nell on her calico pony as +the Goddess bustin' away with the rest. + +"Little Enright Peets wants in on the pistol shootin', an' howls jes' +like a coyote--as children will--ontil Boggs, who foresees it an' +comes provided, gives him a baby pistol, a box of blank cartridges, +an' exhorts him to cut loose. Which little Enright Peets shore cuts +loose, all right; an', except that he sets fire to the coach a few +times, an' makes Missis Rucker oneasy up on top--her fearin' that +mebby some of them blanks has bullets in 'em by mistake--he has a +perfectly splendid time. + +"The procession over, we eats up the Red Dog chief's banquet, wharat +every brand of airtights is introdooced. That done, we listens to +Jedge Beebe, who soars an' sails an' sails an' soars, rhetorical, for +mebby it's a hour, an' is that eloquent an' elevated he never hits +nothin' but the highest places. + +"The Red Dog chief makes a speech, an' proposes 'Wolfville'; to which +Peets--by Enright's request--reesponds, an' offers 'Red Dog.' It's +bottoms up to both sentiments; for thar's no negligence about the +drinks, Black Jack havin' capered fraternally over to he'p out his +overworked barkeep brother of the Red Dog Tub of Blood. + +"When no one wants to further drink or eat or talk, we reepa'rs to a +level place between the two camps to go through the Cornwallis' +surrender. The rival forces is arrayed opp'site, Cornwallis Bland in a +red coat, an' Washington Boggs in bloo an' buff, accordin' to the +teachin's of hist'ry. Both of 'em has sabers donated from the Fort. + +"When all's ready Washington Boggs an' Cornwallis Bland rides out in +front ontil they're in easy speakin' distance. Cornwallis Bland's been +over-drinkin' some, an' is w'arin' a mighty deefiant look. + +"After a spell, nothin' bein' spoke on either side, Washington Boggs +calls out: + +"'Is this yere Gen'ral Cornwallis?' + +"'Who you talkin' to?' demands Cornwallis Bland, a heap contemptuous +an' insolent. + +"Peets has done writ out words for 'em to say, but neither uses 'em. +Observin' how Cornwallis Bland conducts himse'f, Washington Boggs +waves his sword plenty vehement, which makes his pony cavort an' +buckjump, an' roars: + +"'Don't you try to play nothin' on me, Gen'ral Cornwallis. Do you or +do you not surrender your mis'rable blade?' + +"'Surrender nothin'!' Cornwallis Bland sneers back, meanwhile reelin' +in his saddle. 'Thar's never the horned-toad clanks a spur in Cochise +County can make me surrender. Likewise, don't you-all go wavin' that +fool weepon at me none. I don't valyoo it more'n if it's a puddin' +stick. Which I've got one of 'em myse'f'--yere he'd have lopped off +one of his pony's y'ears, only it's so dull--'an' I wouldn't give it +to a yellow pup to play with.' + +"'For the last time, Cornwallis,' says Washington Boggs, face aflame +with rage, 'I commands you to surrender.' + +"'Don't let him bluff you, Pete,' yells a bumptious young cow-puncher +who belongs on the Red Dog-English side. 'Which we can wipe up the +plains with that Wolfville outfit.' + +"The Red Dog chief bats the young trouble-makin' cow-puncher over the +head with his gun, an' quietly motions to the Lightnin' Bug an' a +fellow Red Dog to pack what reemains of him to the r'ar. This done, he +turns to reemonstrate with Cornwallis Bland for his obstinancy. He's +too late. Washington Boggs, who's stood all he will, drives the spurs +into his pony, an' next with a bound an' a rush, he hits Cornwallis +Bland an' his charger full chisle. + +"The pony of Cornwallis Bland fa'rly swaps ends with itse'f, an' +Cornwallis would have swapped ends with it, too, only Washington Boggs +collars an' hefts him out of his saddle. + +"'Now, you onwashed drunkard, will you surrender?' roars Washington +Boggs, shakin' Cornwallis Bland like a dog does a rat, ontil that +British leader drops all of his hardware, incloosive of his +pistol--'now will you surrender, or must I break your back across your +own pony, as showin' you the error of your ways?' + +"It looks like thar's goin' to be a hostile comminglin' of all hands, +when--her ha'r streamin' behind her same as if she's a comet--Missis +Bland comes chargin' up. + +"'Yere, you drunken villyun!' she screams to Boggs, 'give me my +husband this instant, onless you wants me to t'ar your eyes out!' + +"'It's him who's to blame, ma'am,' says Enright mildly, comin' to +Boggs' rescoo; 'which he won't surrender.' + +"'Oh, he won't, won't he?' says Missis Bland, as she hooks onto +Cornwallis Bland. 'You bet he'll surrender to me all right, or I'll +know why.' + +"As the Red Dog chief is apol'gizin' to Enright, who's tellin' him not +to mind, Cornwallis Bland is bein' half shoved an' half drug, not to +mention wholly yanked, towards the Abe Lincoln House by Missis Bland. + +"That's the end. This yere ontoward finale to our cel'bration gets +wide-flung notice in print, an' instead of bein' a boost, as we-all +hopes, Wolfville an' Red Dog becomes a jest an' jeer. Also, while it +don't sour the friendly relations of the two camps, the simple mention +of Fo'th of Jooly leaves a bitter taste in the Wolfville-Red Dog mouth +ever since." + + + + +VII + +PROPRIETY PRATT, HYPNOTIST + + +"Do I ever see any folks get hypnotized? Which I witnesses a few sech +instances. But it's usually done with a gun. If you're yearnin' to +behold a party go into a trance plumb successful an' abrupt, get the +drop on him. Thar ain't one sport in a hundred who can look into the +muzzle of a Colt's .45, held by a competent hand, without lapsin' into +what Peets calls a 'cataleptic state.' + +"Shore, son, I savvys what you means." + +The last was because I had begun to exhibit signs of impatience at +what I regarded as a too flippant spirit on the part of my old +cattleman. In the polite kindliness of his nature he made haste to +smooth down my fur. + +"To be shore I onderstands you. As to the real thing in hypnotism, +however, thar arises as I recalls eevents but few examples in Arizona. +The Southwest that a-way ain't the troo field for them hypnotists, the +weak-minded among the pop'lation bein' redooced to minimum. Now an' +then of course some hypnotic maverick, who's strayed from the eastern +range, takes to trackin' 'round among us sort o' blind an' permiscus. +But he never stays long, an' is generally tickled to death when some +vig'lance committee so far reelents as to let him escape back. + +"Over in Bernilillo once, I'm present when a mob gets its rope onto +one of these yere wizards, an' it's nothin' but the mercy of hell an' +the mean pars'mony of what outcasts has him in charge, which saves him +from bein' swung up. Mind you, it ain't no vig'lance committee, but a +mob, that's got him. + +"Whatever is the difference? + +"Said difference, son, is as a spanless gulf. A vig'lance committee is +the coolest kind of comin' together of the integrity an' the brains of +a commoonity. A mob, on the other hand, is a chance-blown convention +of deestructionists, as savagely brainless as a pack of timber wolves. +A vig'lance committee seeks jestice; a mob is merely out for blood." + +"About this Bernilillo business?" + +The old gentleman, as though the recital might take some time, +signalled the black attendant to bring refreshments. The bottle +comfortably at his elbow, he proceeded. + +"I was thar, as I says, but I takes no part for either 'yes' or 'no,' +bein' no more'n simply a 'looker on in Vienna,' as the actor party +observes over in the Bird Cage Op'ry House. Thar's one of them +hypnotizin' sharps who's come bulgin' into Bernilillo to give a show. +Nacherally the local folks raps for a showdown; they insists he +entrance some one they knows, an' refooses to be put off by him +hypnotizin' what herd of hirelin's he's brought with him, on the +argyooment that them humbugs is in all likelihood but cappers for his +game. + +"Thus stood up, the professor, as he calls himself, begins rummagin' +'round for a subject. Thar's a little Frenchman who's been pervadin' +about Bernilillo, claimin' to be a artist. Which he's shore a painter +all right. I sees him myse'f take a bresh an' a batch of colors, an' +paint a runnin' iron so it looks so much like wood it floats. Shore; +Emil--which this yere genius' name is Emil--as a artist that a-way is +as good as jacks-up before the draw. + +"The hypnotic professor runs his eye over the audjence. In a moment +he's onto Emil, an' begins to w'irl his hypnotic rope. It's Emil bein' +thin an' weakly an' bloodless, I reckon, that attracts him. This yere +Emil ain't got bodily stren'th to hold his own ag'in a high wind, an' +the professor is on at a glance that, considered from standp'ints of +hypnotism, he ought to be a pushover. + +"Emil don't hone to be no subject, but them Bernilillo hold-ups +snatches onto him in spite of his protests, an' passes him up onto the +stage to the professor. They're plenty headlong, not to say boorish, +them Bernilillo ruffians be; speshully if they've sot their hearts on +anythin', an' pore Emil stands about the same show among 'em as a +cottontail rabbit among a passel of owls. + +"For myse'f, I allers adheres to a theery that what follows is to be +laid primar'ly to the door of the Bernilillo pop'lace. Which it's +themselves, not the professor, they'd oughter've strung up. You see +this Emil artist person blinks out onder the spells of the professor, +an' never does come to no more. The professor hypnotizes Emil, but he +can't onhypnotize him. Thar he sets as dead as Davy Crockett. + +"This yere Emil bein' shore dead, Bernilillo sent'ment begins to churn +an' wax active. Thar ain't a well-conditioned vig'lance committee +between the Pecos an' the Colorado which, onder the circumstances, +would have dreamed of stretchin' that professor. What he does, them +Bernilillo dolts forces him to do. As for deceased, his ontimely +evaporation that a-way is but the frootes of happenstance. + +"What cares the Bernilillo pop'lace, wolf hungry for blood? In the +droppin' of a sombrero they've cinched onto the professor, an' the +only question left open is whether they'll string him up to the town +windmill or the sign in front of the First National Bank. + +"While them Bernilillo wolves is howlin' an' mobbin' an' millin' +'round the professor--who himse'f is scared plumb speechless an' is as +white as a lump of chalk--relief pushes to the front in most +onexpected shape. It's a kyard sharp by the name of Singleton, +otherwise called the Planter, who puts himse'f in nom'nation to +extricate the professor. + +"Climbin' onto the top step in front of the bank, the Planter lifts up +his voice for a hearin'. + +"'Folks!' he shouts, 'I'm in favor of this yere lynchin' like a +landslide. But, all the same, thar's a bet we overlooks. It's up to us +not only to be jest, but to be gen'rous. This yere murderer, who's +done blotted out the only real artist I ever meets except myse'f, has +a wife down to the hotel. As incident to these festiv'ties she's goin' +to be a widow. Is it for the manhood an' civic virchoo of Bernilillo +to leave a widow of its own construction broke an' without a dollar? I +hears the incensed echoes from the Black Range roarin' back in +scornful accents "No!" Sech bein' the sityooation, as preelim'nary to +this yere hangin' I moves we takes up a collection for that widow. +Yere's a fifty to 'nitiate the play'--at this p'int the Planter throws +a fifty-dollar bill into his hat--'an' as I passes among you I wants +every sport to come across, lib'ral an' free, an' prove to the world +lookin' on that Bernilillo is the band of onbelted philanthropists +which mankind's allers believed. + +"Hat in hand, same as if it's a contreebution box an' he's passin' the +platter in church, the Planter begins goin' in an' out through the +multitood like a meadowlark through standin' grass. That is, he +starts to go in an' out; but, at the first motion, that entire +lynchin' party exhales like mist on the mornin' mountains. It's the +same as flappin' a blanket at a bunch of cattle. Every profligate of +'em, at the su'gestion he contreebute to the widow, gets stampeded, +an' thar's nobody left but the Planter, the professor, an' me. + +"'Which I shore knows how to tech them ground-hawgs on the raw,' says +the Planter, as he onlooses the professor. 'If I was to have p'inted a +gun at 'em now, they'd've give me a battle. But bein' to the last man +jack a bunch of onmitigated misers, a threat leveled at their +bankrolls sets 'em to hidin' out like quail!' + +"The professor? + +"The instant he's laig-free, an' without so much as pausin' to +congrachoolate his preeserver on the power of his eloquence, he +vanishes into the night. He's headin' towards Vegas as he's lost to +sight, an' I learns later from Russ Kishler he makes that meetropolis +more or less used up. No; he don't have no wife. That flight of fancy +is flung off by the Planter simply as furnishin' 'atmosphere.' + +"Wolfville never gets honored but once by the notice of a hypnotist. +This yere party don't proclaim himse'f as sech, but bills his little +game as that of a 'magnetic healer,' an' allows in words a foot high +that he's out to 'make the deef hear, the blind see, the lame to walk +an' the halt to skip an' gambol as doth the hillside lamb.' Also, on +them notices, the same bein' the bigness of a hoss-blanket an' hung up +lib'ral in the Red Light, the post office, the Dance Hall, an' the Noo +York store, is a picture of old Satan himse'f, teachin' Professor +Propriety Pratt--that bein' the name this yere neecromancer gives +himse'f--his trade. + +"These proclamations is tacked up a full week before Professor Pratt +is doo, an' prodooces a profound effect on Boggs, him bein' by nacher +sooperstitious to the brink of the egreegious. The evenin' before the +Professor is to onlimber on us, he shows in Red Dog, an' Boggs is that +roused by what's been promised in the line of mir'cles, he rides +across to be present. + +"'It ain't that I'm convinced none,' Boggs reports, when quaffin' his +Old Jordan in the Red Light, an' settin' fo'th what he sees, 'but I +must confess to bein' more or less onhossed by what this yere Pratt +Professor does. He don't magnetize none of them Red Dog drunkards in +person, for which he's to be exon'rated, since no self-respectin' +magnetizer would let himse'f get tangled up with sech. He confines his +exploits to a brace of dreamy lookin' ground owls he totes 'round with +him, an' which he calls his "hosses." What he makes these vagrants do, +though, assoomin' it's on the squar', is a caution to bull-snakes. +After he's got 'em onder the "inflooence," they eats raw potatoes like +they're roast apples, sticks needles into themselves same as though +they're pincushions, an' at his slightest behest performs other feats +both blood-curdlin' an' myster'ous.' + +"We-all listens to Boggs, of course, as he recounts what marvels he's +gone ag'inst in Red Dog, but we don't yield him as much attention as +we otherwise might, bein' preeockepied as a public with word of a +hold-up that's come off over near the Whetstone Springs. Some +bandit--all alone--sticks up the Lordsburg coach, an' quits winner +sixty thousand dollars. Nacherally our cur'osity is a heap stirred up, +for with sech encouragement thar's no tellin' when he'll make a play +at Monte an' the Wolfville stage, an' take to layin' waste the +fortunes of all us gents. What is done to Lordsburg we can stand, but +a blow at our own warbags, even in antic'pation, is calc'lated to +cause us to perk up. We're all discussin' the doin's of this yere +route agent an' wonderin' if it's Curly Bill, when Boggs gets back +from Red Dog, with the result, as I says, that he onloads his +findin's, that a-way, on a dead kyard. Not that this yere public +inattention preys on Boggs. He keeps on drinkin' an' talkin', same as +though, all y'ears like a field of wheat, we ain't doin' a thing but +listen. + +"'Also,' he observes, as he tells Black Jack to rebusy himse'f, +meanwhile p'intin' up to the poster which shows how the devil is +holdin' Professor Pratt in his lap an' laborin' for that hypnotist's +instruction; 'I shall think out a few tests which oughter get the +measure of that mountebank. He won't find this outfit so easy as them +Red Dog boneheads.' + +"Professor Pratt has a one-day wait in Wolfville, not bein' able that +evenin' to get the Bird Cage Op'ry House, the same bein' engaged by a +company of histrions called the Red Stocking Blonds. Havin' nothin' +else to do, the Professor wanders yere an' thar, now in the Red +Light, now at the Noo York store, but showin' up at the O. K. +Restauraw at chuck time both rav'nous an' reg'lar. Missis Rucker +allows she never does feed a gent who puts himse'f outside of so much +grub for the money, an' hazards the belief it's because of a loss of +nervous force through them hypnotizin's he pulls off. Not that she's +findin' fault, for the Professor, havin' staked her to a free ticket, +has her on his staff in the shakin' of a dice-box. + +"The Professor don't come bulgin' among us, garroolous an' friendly, +but holds himse'f aloof a heap, clingin' to the feelin' mebby that to +preeserve a distance is likely to swell reesults at the Bird Cage +door. Boggs, however, ain't to be stood off by no coldness, carin' no +more for a gent's bein' haughty that a-way than a cow does for a +cobweb. Which you bet it'll take somethin' more'n mere airs to hold +Boggs in check. + +"It's in the O. K. Restauraw, followin' our evenin' _frijoles_, that +Boggs breaks the ice an' declar's for some exper'ments. + +"'Which you claims,' says he, appealin' to the Professor, 'to make the +deef hear and the blind see. Onforchoonately we're out of deef folks +at this writin', an' thar's nothin' approachin' blindness in this neck +of woods which don't arise from licker. But aside from cures thus +rendered impossible for want of el'gible invalids, thar's still this +yere hypnotic bluff you puts up. What Wolfville hankers for is tests, +tests about the legit'macy of which thar's no openin' for dispoote. +Wharfore I yereby makes offer of myse'f to become your onmurmurin' +dupe. I'll gamble you a stack of bloos you don't make me drink no +water, thinkin' it's nosepaint, same as you pretends to do with them +wretched confed'rates of yours.' + +"The Professor is a big b'ar-built sport, an' looks equal to holdin' +his own onder common conditions. But Boggs don't come onder the latter +head. So the Professor, turnin' diplomatic an' compliment'ry, explains +that sech powerful nachers as Boggs' is out of reach of his +rope--Boggs bein' reepellent, besides havin' too strong a will. + +"'As to you, Mister Boggs, with that will of yours,' says the +Professor, 'I might as well talk of hypnotizin' Cook's Peak.' + +"One after another, Boggs makes parade of everybody in camp. It's no +go; the Professor waves 'em aside as plumb onfit. Missis Rucker's got +too much on her mind; in Rucker the tides of manhood is at so low a +ebb he might die onder the pressure; Monte's too full of nosepaint, +alcohol, that a-way, bein' a nonconductor. + +"When the Professor dismisses Monte, the ground he puts it on excites +that inebriate to whar it reequires the united energies of Cherokee +an' Tutt to kick him off the Professor. It's only the direct commands +of Enright which in the end indooces him to keep the peace. + +"'Let me at him!' he howls; 'let me get at him! Does any one figger +I'll allow some fly-by-night charl'tan to go reeflectin' on me? Stand +back, Cherokee, get out o' the way, Dave, till I plaster the wall with +his reemains!' + +"'Ca'm yourse'f, Monte,' says Enright, who's come in in time to +onderstand the trouble. 'Which if this hypnotizer was reely meanin' to +outrage your feelin's, it'd be different a whole lot, an' this +sod-pawin' an' horn-tossin' might plead some jestification. But what +he says is in the way of scientific exposition, an' nothin' said +scientific's to be took insultin'. Ain't that your view, Doc?' + +"'Shore,' replies Peets. The Doc's been havin' no part in the +discussion, him holdin' that the Professor, with his rannikaboo bluff +about healin', is a empirik, an' beneath his professional contempt. +'Shore. Also, I'm free to inform Monte that if he thinks he's goin' to +lap up red licker to the degree he does, an' obleege folks in gen'ral +to treat sech consumption as a secret, he's got his stack down +wrong.' + +"'Enough said,' ejacyoolates Monte, but still warm; 'whether or no, +Doc, I'm the sot this outfit's so fond of picturin', I at least ain't +so lost to reason as to go buckin' ag'inst you an' Enright. Jest the +same, though, I'm yere to give the news to any magnetizing horned-toad +who sows the seeds of dispoote in this camp that, if he goes about +malignin' me, he'll shore find I'm preecisely the orange-hued +chimpanzee to wrop my prehensile tail around him an' yank him from his +limb.' + +"'Aside from aidin' the deef an' the blind,' says the Professor, +ignorin' Monte utter an' addressin' himse'f to Boggs an' the public +gen'ral, 'my ministrations has been found eff'cacious wharever the +course of troo love has not run smooth. I binds up wounds of +sent'ment, an' cures every sickness of the soul. Which, if thar's any +heart lyin' 'round loose yereabouts an' failin' to beat as one, or a +sperit that's been disyoonited from its mate an' can't remake the +hook-up, trust me to get thar with bells on in remedyin' sech evils.' + +"The Professor beams as he gets this off, mighty benignant. Texas, +feelin' like the common eye is on him, commences to grow restless. + +"'Be you-all alloodin' to me?' he asks the Professor, his manner +approaching the petyoolant. 'Let me give you warnin', an' all on the +principle that a wink is as good as a nod to a blind mule. So shore as +you go to makin' any plays to reyoonite me an' that divorced Laredo +wife of mine I'll c'llect enough of your hypnotizin' hide to make a +saddle-cover.' + +"'Permit me,' says the Professor, turnin' to Texas some aghast, 'to +give you my word I nourishes no sech deesigns. Which I'm driven to +say, however, that your attitoode is as hard to fathom as a fifth ace +in a poker deck. I in no wise onderstands your drift.' + +"'You onderstands at least,' returns Texas, still morbid an' +f'rocious, 'that you or any other fortune teller might better have +been born a Digger Injun to live on lizards, sage bresh an' +grasshoppers than come messin' 'round in my mar'tal affairs with a +view to reebuildin' 'em up. My hopes in that behalf is rooined; an' +whoever ondertakes their rehabil'tation'll do it in the smoke. What +I'm out after now is the ca'm onbroken misery of a single life, an' +I'll shore have it or have war.' + +"'My heated friend, I harbors no notion,' the Professor protests, 'of +tryin' to make it otherwise. Your romancin' 'round single, that a-way, +ain't no skin off my nose. An' while I never before hears of your +former bride, I'm onable to dodge the feelin' that she herse'f most +likely might reesent to the utmost any attempt on my part to ag'in +bring you an' her together.' + +"Texas formyoolates no express reply, but growls. The Professor, still +with that propitiatin' front, appeals to the rest of us. + +"'Gents,' he says, 'this yere's the most reesentful outfit I'm ever +inveigled into tryin' to give a show to. I certainly has no thought of +rubbin' wrong-ways the pop'lar bristles. All I aims at is to give a +exhibition of anamile magnetism, cure what halt an' blind--if any--is +cripplin' an' moonin' about, c'llect my _dinero_ an' peacefully hit +the trail. An' yet it looks like a prejewdice exists ag'inst me +yere.' + +"'Put a leetle pressure on the curb, thar,' interrupts Peets. 'You're +up ag'inst no prejewdice. On that bill, wharwith you've done defaced +the Wolfville walls, you makes sundry claims. An' now you r'ars back +on your ha'nches, preetendin' to feel plumb illyoosed, because some +one seeks to put the acid on 'em.' + +"'That's whatever!' adds Boggs; 'the Doc states my p'sition +equilaterally exact. I sees your Red Dog show. I'll be present a whole +lot at your show to-morry night. Also, I feels the need of gyardin' +ag'inst my own credoolity. What I sees you do in Red Dog, while not +convincin', throws me miles into the oncertain air; an' I don't figger +on lettin' you _vamoos_, leavin' me in no sech a onsettled frame. +Wharfore, I deemands tests.' + +"'Yere,' breaks in Nell, who's been listenin', 'what's the matter of +this occult party hypnotizin' me.' + +"'The odd kyard in that deck,' says Cherokee, his manner trenchin' on +the baleful--'the odd kyard in that deck is that onless this yere +occultist is cap'ble of mesmerizin' a bowie to whar it looses both +p'int an' edge, for him to go weavin' his wiles an' guiles 'round you, +Nellie, would mark the evenin' of his c'reer.' + +"Nell beams an' brightens at these yere proofs of Cherokee's int'rest, +while the pore Professor looks as deeply disheveled mental as he does +when Texas goes soarin' aloft. + +"Little Enright Peets waddles up to tell his paw that Tucson Jennie +wants him. As he comes teeterin' along on his short cub-b'ar laigs, +fat an' 'round as forty pigs, the Professor--thinkin' it'll mebby +relieve the sityooation--stoops down to be pleasant to little Enright +Peets. + +"'Yere's my little friend!' he says, at the same time holdin' out his +hands. + +"Later we-all feels some ashamed of the excitement we displays. But +the trooth is, the Professor offerin' to caress little Enright Peets +that a-way sends us plumb off our feet. I never before witnesses any +sech display of force. Every gent starts for'ard, an' some has pulled +their guns. + +"'Paws off!' roars Enright to the pore dazed Professor, who +comes mighty clost to rottin' down right thar; 'in view of them +announcements'--yere Enright p'ints to the bill, whar Satan an' +the Professor is deepicted as teacher an' poopil--'do you-all reckon +we lets sech a devil's baby as you go manhandlin' that child?' + +"The Professor throws up his hands like he's growing desp'rate. + +"'Folks,' he says, 'I asks, in all hoomility, is thar anythin' I can +say or do in this yere camp without throwing away my life?' + +"'Shore,' returns Boggs; 'all you got to do is give a deemonstration.' + +"'However be I goin' to give a hypnotic deemonstration,' returns the +Professor, apparently on the verge of nervous breakdown, 'when every +possible subject is either too preeokyoopied, or too obstinate, or too +weak, or too yoothful, or too beautiful, or too drunk? If it's healin' +you're after, bring fo'th the sickest you've got. If he's blind an' +his eye ain't gouged plumb out, I'll make him see; if he's lame an' +his laig ain't cut plumb off, I'll make him walk. An' now, gents, I'm +through. If these yere proffers don't suit, proceed with my bootchery. +I care less, since one day with you-all exactin' tarrapins has +rendered life so distasteful to me that I wouldn't turn hand or head +to live.' + +"Havin' got this off his mind, the harassed Professor sets down an' +buries his face in his hands. + +"'Why not introdooce him,' breaks in Rucker, who's nosin' about, 'to +that aflickted shorthorn who comes groanin' in on the stage last +night? He's been quiled up in his blankets with the rhoomatism ever +since he hits camp. Which if this yere imposter can make him walk, +it'll shore be kings-up with Missis Rucker, 'cause she wants to make +the bed.' + +"'Whar's this sufferer at?' demands Boggs, takin' the Professor by the +sleeve an' with the same motion pullin' his six-shooter. 'This yere +discussion's done reached the mark whar it's goin' to be a case of +kill or cure for some sport.' + +"Rucker leads the way up sta'rs, Boggs an' the Professor next, the +rest trailin'. All hands crowds into the little dark bedroom. Thar on +the bed, clewed up into a knot, lies the rhoomatic party. As we-all +files in, he draws himse'f onder the blankets ontil nothin' but his +nose sticks out. + +"'Professor,' says Boggs, an' his six-shooter goes 'kluck! kluck!' +mighty menacin', 'onfurl your game! I shore trusts that you ain't +started nothin' you can't stop.' + +"The pore Professor don't nurse no doubts. He thinks he's in the +bubblin' midst of blood an' sudden death; wharfore, you bet, he throws +plenty of sperit into his racket. Makin' some hostile moves with his +hands--Boggs elevatin' his gun, not bein' quite content about them +motions--the Professor yells: + +"'Get up!' + +"Talk of mir'cals! Which you should have seen that rhoomatic! With one +turrific squawk he lands on his knees at the feet of Boggs, beggin' +for mercy. + +"'Don't kill me,' he cries; 'I'll show you whar I plants the money.' + +"Whoever is that rhoomatic? Which he's the stoodent who stands up the +stage over by Whetstone Springs. His rhoomatism's merely that +malefactor's way of goin' onder cover. + +"The Professor later offers to divide with Boggs on the two +thousand-dollar reward the Wells-Fargo folks pays, but Boggs shakes +his head. + +"'You take the entire wad, Professor,' says he, wavin' aside that +gen'rous necromancer. 'It's the trophy of your own hypnotic bow an' +spear. What share is borne by my .45 is incidental. Which I'll say, +too, that if I was playin' your hand I'd spread that cure on my +posters as the star mir'cle of my c'reer.'" + + + + +VIII + +THAT TURNER PERSON + + +"Talk of your hooman storm-centers an' nacheral born hubs of grief," +observed the old cattleman, reminiscently; "I'm yere to back that +Turner person ag'inst all competitors. Not but what once we're onto +his angles, he sort o' oozes into our regyards. His baptismal name is +'Lafe,' but he never does deerive no ben'fit tharfrom among us, him +behavin' that eegregious from the jump, he's allers referred to as +'that Turner person.' + +"As evincin' how swift flows the turbid currents of his destinies, he +succeeds in focusin' the gen'ral gaze upon him before he's been in +camp a day. Likewise, it's jest as well Missis Rucker herse'f ain't +present none in person at the time, or mighty likely he'd have focused +all the crockery on the table upon him, which you can bet your last +_peso_ wouldn't have proved no desid'ratum. For while Missis Rucker +ain't what I calls onusual peevish, for a lady to set thar quiet an' +be p'inted to by some onlicensed boarder as a Borgia, that away, would +be more'n female flesh an' blood can b'ar. + +"It's like this. The Turner person comes pushin' his way into the O. +K. Restauraw along with the balance of the common herd, an' pulls a +cha'r up ag'inst the viands with all the confidence of a oldest +inhab'tant. After grinnin' up an' down the table as affable as a wet +dog, he ropes onto a can of airtights, the same bein' peaches. He +he'ps himse'f plenty copious an' starts to mowin' 'em away. + +"None of us is noticin' partic'lar, bein' engaged on our own hook +reachin' for things, when of a sudden he cuts loose a screech which +would have knocked a bobcat speechless. + +"'I'm p'isened!' he yells; 'I'm as good as dead right now!' + +"Followin' this yere fulm'nation, he takes to dancin' stiff-laiged, +meanwhile clutchin' hold of the buckle on his belt. + +"Thar should be no dissentin' voice when I states that, at a crisis +when some locoed maverick stampedes a entire dinin' room by allowin' +he's been p'isened, prompt action should be took. Wharfore it excites +no s'rprise when Jack Moore, to whom as kettle-tender for the +Stranglers all cases of voylance is _ex officio_ put up, capchers the +ghost-dancin' Turner person by the collar. + +"'Whatever's the meanin' of this midprandial excitement?' demands +Jack. 'Which if these is your manners in a dinin' room, I'd shore +admire to see you once in church.' + +"'I'm p'isened!' howls the Turner person, p'intin' at the airtights. +'It's ptomaines! I'm a gone fawnskin! Ptomaines is a center shot!' + +"None of us holds Rucker overhigh, an' yet we jestifies that husband's +action. Rucker's headin' in from the kitchen, bearin' aloft a platter +of ham an' cabbage. He arrives in time to gather in the Turner +person's bluff about 'ptomaines,' an' onderstands he's claimin' to be +p'isened. Shore, Rucker don't know what ptomaines is, but what then? +No more does the rest of us, onless it's Peets, an' he's over to +Tucson. As I freequently remarks, the Doc is the best eddicated sharp +in Arizona, an' even 'ptomaines' ain't got nothin' on him. + +"Rucker plants the platter of ham an' cabbage on the table, an' +appeals 'round to us. + +"'Gents,' he says, 'am I to stand mootely by an' see this tavern, the +best j'int ondoubted in Arizona, insulted?' An' with that he's down on +the Turner person like a fallin' tree, whar that crazy-hoss +individyooal stands jumpin' an' dancin' in the hands of Moore. + +"'What's these yere slanders,' shouts Rucker, 'you-all is levelin' at +my wife's hotel? Yere we be, feedin' you on the fat of the land; an' +the form your gratitoode takes is to go givin' it out broadcast you're +p'isened! You pull your freight,' he concloodes, as he wrastles the +dancin' Turner person to the door, 'an' if you-all ever shows your +villifyin' nose inside this hostelry ag'in I'll fill you full of +buckshot.' + +"To be shore, that crack about buckshot ain't nothin' more'n vain +hyperbole, Rucker not possessin' the spunk of bull-snakes. The Turner +person, however, lets him get away with it, an' submits tamely to be +buffaloed, which of itse'f shows he ain't got the heart of a horned +toad. The eepisode does Rucker a heap of good, though, an' he puffs up +immoderate. Given any party he can buffalo, an' the way that +weak-minded married man expands his chest, an' takes to struttin', is +a caution to cock partridges. An' all the time, a jack-rabbit, of +ordinary resolootion an' force of character, would make Rucker take to +a tree or go into a hole. + +"Is the Turner person p'isened? + +"No more'n I be. Which it's simple that alarmist's heated imagination, +aggravated by what deloosions is born of the nosepaint he gets in +Red Dog before ever he makes his Wolfville deboo at all. Two hookers +of Old Jordan from Black Jack renders him so plumb well he's +reedic'lous. + +"Most likely you-all'd go thinkin' now that, havin' let sech a +hooman failure as Rucker put it all over him, this Turner person'd lie +dormant a spell, an' give his se'f-respect a chance to ketch its +breath. Not him. It's no longer away than second drink time the same +evenin' when he locks gratooitous horns with Black Jack. To this last +embroglio thar is--an' could be--no deefense, Jack bein' so amiable +that havin' trouble with him is like goin' to the floor with your +own image in the glass. Which he's shorely a long sufferin' +barkeep, Jack is. Mebby it's his genius for forbearance, that a-way, +which loores this Turner person into attemptin' them outrages on his +sens'bilities. + +"The Turner person stands at the bar, sloppin' out the legit'mate +forty drops. With nothin' said or done to stir him up, he cocks his +eye at Jack--for all the world like a crow peerin into a bottle--an' +says, + +"'Which your feachers is displeasin' to me, an' I don't like your +looks.' + +"Jack keeps on swabbin' off the bar for a spell, an' all as mild as +the month of May. + +"'Is that remark to be took sarkastic?' he asks at last, 'or shall we +call it nothin' more'n a brainless effort to be funny?' + +"'None whatever!' retorts the Turner person; 'that observation's made +in a serious mood. Your countenance is ondoubted the facial failure of +the age, an' I requests that you turn it the other way while I +drinks.' + +"Not bein' otherwise engaged at the moment, an' havin' time at his +command, Jack repairs from behind the bar, an' seizes the Turner +person by the y'ear. + +"'An' this is the boasted hospital'ty of the West!' howls the Turner +person, strugglin' to free himself from Jack, who's slowly but +voloominously bootin' him towards the street. + +"It's Nell who tries to save him. + +"'Yere, you Jack!' she sings out, 'don't you-all go hurtin' that pore +tenderfoot none.' + +"Nell's a shade too late, however; Jack's already booted him out. + +"Shore, Jack apologizes. + +"'Beg parding, Nellie,' he says; 'your least command beats four of a +kind with me; but as to that ejected shorthorn, I has him all thrown +out before ever you gets your stack down.' + +"The Turner person picks himse'f out of the dust, an', while he feels +his frame for dislocations with one hand, feebly menaces at Black Jack +with t'other. + +"'Some day, you rum-sellin' miscreent,' he says, 'you'll go too far +with me.' + +"As showin' how little these vicisitoodes preys on this Turner person, +it ain't ten minutes till he's hit the middle of Wolfville's principal +causeway, roarin' at the top of his lungs, + +"'Cl'ar the path! I'm the grey wolf of the mountings, an' gen'ral +desolation follows whar I leads!' + +"Yere he gives a prolonged howl. + +"The hardest citizen that ever belted on a gun couldn't kick up no +sech row as that in Wolfville, an' last as long as a drink of whiskey. +In half the swish of a coyote's tail, Jack Moore's got the Turner +person corralled. + +"'This camp has put up with a heap from you,' says Moore, 'an' now we +tries what rest an' reeflection will do.' + +"'I'm a wolf--!' + +"'We savvys all about you bein' a wolf. Also, I'm goin' to tie you to +the windmill, as likely to exert a tamin' inflooence.' + +"Moore conveys the Turner person to the windmill, an' ropes his two +hands to one of its laigs. + +"'Thar, Wolf,' he says, makin' shore the Turner person is fastened +secoore, 'I shall leave you ontil, with every element of wildness +abated, you-all begins to feel more like a domestic anamile.' + +"From whar we-all are standin' in front of the post office, we can +see the Turner person roped to the windmill laig. + +"'What do you reckon's wrong with that party?' asks Enright, sort o' +gen'ral like; 'I don't take it he's actchooally locoed none.' + +"Thar's half a dozen opinions on the p'int involved. Tutt su'gests +that the Turner person's wits, not bein' cinched on any too tight by +nacher in the beginnin', mebby slips their girths same as happens with +a saddle. Cherokee inclines to a notion that whatever mental +deeflections he betrays is born primar'ly of him stoppin' that week in +Red Dog. Cherokee insists that sech a space in Red Dog shore ought to +be s'fficient to give any sport, however firmly founded, a decisive +slant. + +"As ag'inst both the others, Boggs holds to the view that the onusual +fitfulness observ'ble in the Turner person arises from a change of +licker, an' urges that the sudden shift from the beverages of Red Dog, +which last is indoobitably no more an' no less than liquid loonacy, to +the Red Lights Old Jordan, is bound to confer a twist upon the +straightest intellectyooals. + +"'Which I knows a party,' says Boggs, 'who once immerses a ten-penny +nail in a quart of Red Dog licker, an' at the end of the week he takes +it out a corkscrew.' + +"'Go an' get him, Jack,' says Enright, p'intin' to the Turner person; +'him bein' tied thar that a-way is an inhooman spectacle, an' if +little Enright Peets should come teeterin' along an' see him, it'd +have a tendency to harden the innocent child. Fetch him yere, an' let +me question him.' + +"'Front up,' says Moore to the Turner person, when he's been conveyed +before Enright; 'front up now, frank an' cheerful, an' answer +questions. Also, omit all ref'rences to bein' a wolf. Which you've +worn that topic thread-bar'; an' besides it ain't calc'lated to do you +credit.' + +"'Whatever's the matter with you?' asks Enright, speakin' to the +Turner person friendly like. 'Which I begins to think thar's somethin' +wrong with your system. The way you go knockin' about offendin' folks, +it won't be no time before every social circle in the Southwest'll be +closed ag'inst you. Whatever's wrong?' + +"'Them's the first kind words,' ejacyoolates the Turner person, +beginnin' to weep, 'which has been spoke to me in months. Which if +you-all will ask me into yon s'loon, an' protect me from that murderer +of a barkeep while I buys the drinks, I'll show you that I've been +illyoosed to a degree whar I'm no longer reespons'ble for my deeds. +It's a love affair,' he adds, gulpin' down a sob, 'an' I've been +crooelly misonderstood.' + +"'A love affair,' repeats Enright plenty soft, for the mention of love +never fails to hit our old warchief whar thar't a palin' off his +fence. 'I ain't been what you-all'd call in love none since the Purple +Blossom of Gingham Mountain marries Polly Hawkes over on the Painted +Post. Polly was a beauty, with a arm like a canthook, an' at sech +dulcet exercises as huggin' she's got b'ars left standin' sideways. +However, that's back in Tennessee, an' many years ago.' + +"Enright, breshin' the drops from his eyes, herds the Turner person +into the Red Light an' signals to Black Jack. + +"'Onfold,' he says; 'tell me as to that love affair wharin you gets +cold-decked.' + +"Nell abandons her p'sition on the lookout stool, an' shows up +interested an' intent at Enright's shoulder. + +"Ain't I in this?' she asks. + +"'Be thar any feachures,' says Enright to the Turner person, +'calc'lated to offend the y'ears of innocence?' + +"'None whatever,' says the Turner person. 'Which I'm oncapable of +shockin' the most fastid'yous.' + +"'Is thar time,' asks Nell of Enright, 'for me to round up Missis +Rucker an' Tucson Jennie? Listenin' to love tales, that a-way, is duck +soup to both of 'em.' + +"'You-all can tell 'em later, Nellie,' returns Enright. Then, to the +Turner person, 'Roll your game, _amigo_, an' if you needs refreshment, +yere it is.' + +"'It ain't no mighty reecital,' says the Turner person loogubriously, +'an' yet it ought to go some distance, among fa'r-minded gents, in +explainin' them vain elements of the weird an' ranikaboo which more or +less enters into my recent conduct. I'm from Missouri; an' for a +livelihood, an' to give the wolf a stand-off, I follows the profession +of a fooneral director. My one weakness is my love for Peggy Parks, +who lives with her folks out in the Sni-a-bar hills. + +"'The nuptual day is set, an' I goes hibernatin' off to Kansas City to +fetch the license.' + +"'How old be you?' breaks in Enright. + +"'Me? I'm twenty-six the last Joone rise of the old Missouri. As I +was sayin', I hitches my hoss in Market Squar', an' takes to +reeconoiterin' along Battle Row, wonderin' wharever them licenses is +for sale, anyway. Final, I discovers a se'f satisfied lookin' party, +who's pattin' a dog. I goes to talkin' about the dog, an' allowin' +I'm some on dogs myse'f, all by way of commencin' a conversation; +an' winds up by askin' whar I go for to get a license. "Over thar," +says the dog party p'intin' across to a edifice he asshores me is a +City Hall. "First floor, first door, an' the damage is a dollar." + +"'Thus steered, I goes streakin' it across, an' follows directions. I +boards my dollar, an' demands action. The outcast who's dealin' the +license game writes in my name, an' shoves the paper across. In a blur +of bliss I files it away in my jeans, mounts my hoss, an' goes +gambodin' back to Peggy, waitin' at ancestral Sni-a-bar.' + +"'Is your Peggy sweetheart pretty?' asks Nell. + +"'She's a lamp of loveliness! Sweet? Beetrees is gall an' wormwood to +her. + +"'As to the weddin', it's settled Peggy an' me is to come flutterin' +from our respective perches the next day. Doubtless we'd have done so, +only them orange blossom rites strikes the onexpected an' goes +glancin' off. + +"'It's the Campbellite preacher, who's been brought in to marry us, +that starts it. The play's to be made at Peggy's paw's house, after +which, for a weddin' trip, she an' me's to go wanderin' out torwards +the Shawnee Mission, whar I've got some kin. The parson, when he has +the entire outfit close-herded into the parlor, asks--bein' a car'ful +old practitioner--to see the license. I turns it over, an' he takes it +to the window to read. He gives that docyooment one look, an' then +glowers at me personal mighty baleful. "Miserable wretch," says he, +"do you-all want to get yourse'f tarred an' feathered?" + +"'In my confoosion I thinks this outbreak is part of the cer'mony, +an' starts to say "I do!" Before I can edge in a word, however, he +calls over Peggy's old man. "Read that!" he cries, holdin' the license +onder old Pap Parks' nose. Old Parks reads, an' the next news I gets +he's maulin' me with his hickory walkin' stick like he's beatin' a +kyarpet. + +"'Without waitin' to kiss the bride or recover my license, I simply +t'ars out the front of the house an' breaks for the woods. The next +day, old Parks takes to huntin' me with hounds. Nacherally, at this +proof of man's inhoomanity to man, I sneaks across into Kansas, an' +makes for the settin' sun.' + +"'An' can't you give no guess,' says Enright, 'at why old Parks digs +up the waraxe so plumb sudden?' + +"'No more'n rattlesnakes onborn, onless his inordinate glee at gettin' +me for a son-in-law has done drove him off his head.' + +"'Which it couldn't be that,' says Enright, takin' a hard, thoughtful +look at the Turner person. Then, followin' a pause, he adds, 'thar's +some myst'ry yere!' + +"'Ain't you-all made no try,' asks Nell, 'sech as writin' letters, or +some game sim'lar, to cl'ar things up?' + +"'You-all don't know Pap Parks, Miss, in all his curves. Why, it's +lucky he ain't wearin' his old bowie at that weddin', or he'd a-split +me into half apples. If I goes to writin' missives that a-way, he'll +locate me; an' you can take my word that invet'rate old homicide 'd +travel to the y'earth's eends to c'llect my skelp. That ain't goin' to +do me; for, much as I love Peggy, I'd a heap sooner be single than +dead.' + +"'That party ain't locoed,' says Texas, noddin' towards the Turner +person, whar he sets sobbin' in a cha'r when Enright gets through +examinin' him. 'He's simply a howlin' eediot. Yere he escapes wedlock +by a mir'cle; an'--chains an' slavery!--now he can't think of no +better way to employ his liberty than in cryin' his heart out because +he's free. If I'm bitter, gents, it's because I speaks from hard +experience. Considerin' how she later corrals that Laredo divorce an' +sells up my cattle at public vandoo for costs an' al'mony, if when I +troops to the altar with that lady whom I makes Missis Thompson, my +gyardian angel had gone at me with a axe, that faithful sperit would +have been doin' no more than its simple dooty in the premises.' + +"Enright takes it onto himself to squar' the Turner person at the Red +Light an' the O. K. Restauraw; an', since his ensooin' conduct is much +within decent bounds, except that Rucker steps some high an' mighty +when he heaves in sight an' Black Jack gives him hard an' narrow +looks, nothin' su'gestive of trouble occurs. In less'n a week he +shakes down into his proper place, an' all as placid as a duck-pond. +He's even a sort o' fav'rite with Nell, Missis Rucker an' Tucson +Jennie, they claimin' that he's sufferin' from soul blight because of +a lost love. Certainly, thar's nothin' in this yere fem'nine bluff, +but of course none of us don't say so at the time. + +"Boggs holds that the Turner person's only a pecooliarly gifted liar, +an' refooses to believe in him. 'Because it's prepost'rous,' says +Boggs, 'that folks would go in to frame up a weddin', an' then, led by +the preacher, take to mobbin' the bridegroom on the very threshold of +them nuptials.' + +"'It ain't by no means shore, Dan,' says Texas, to whom Boggs imparts +his convictions, 'but what you've drove the nail. Which if that Parks +household reely has it in for this Turner person, they'd have let him +go the route. Could even the revenge of a fiend ask more than simply +seein' him a married man?' + +"In about a fortnight, that Turner person's got fully cooled out, an' +the worst effects of what Red Dog licker he imbibes has disappeared. +As he feels himse'f approachin' normal, as Peets puts it, he mentions +to Enright casyooal like that, if the town sees nothin' ag'in it, he +reckons he'll open an ondertakin' shop. + +"'Not,' he says, 'that I'm the man to go hintin' that what former +foonerals has been pulled off in these yere parts ain't been all they +should; but still, to get a meetropolitan effect, you oughter have a +hearse an' ploomes. Let it be mine to provide them marks of a advanced +civilization. It'll make villages like Red Dog an' Colton sing low, +an' be a distinct advantage to a camp which is strugglin' for +consid'ration. Yes, sir,' goes on the Turner person, warmin' with the +theme, 'what's the public use of obsequies if you-all don't exhaust +'em of every ounce of good? An' how can any outfit expect to do this, +an' said outfit shy that greatest evidence of modern reefinement, a +hearse? Given a rosewood coffin, an' a black hearse with ploomes--me +on the box--an' the procession linin' solemnly out for Boot Hill, if +we-all ain't the instant envy of the territory, you can peg me out by +the nearest ant hill ontil I pleads guilty to bein' wrong.' + +"'Thar's no need for all this yere eloquence,' replies Enright, +blandly. 'What you proposes has been a dream of mine for years. You +open your game as fooneral director, an' if we can't find material for +you local, we'll go rummagin' 'round as far as Lordsburg an' Silver +City to supply the deficiency.' + +"Feelin' Enright is behind him, the Turner person goes to work with +sech exyooberant enthoosiasm, that it ain't a month before he brings +over his hearse from Tucson, said vehicle havin' been sent on from the +East. She's shore no slouch for a catafalque neither, an' we p'rades +up an' down the street with it, gettin' the effect. + +"Boggs voices the common feelin'. + +"'Thar's a conveyance,' says he, 'that comes mighty close to robbin' +death of half its sting. Any sport is bound to cash in more content, +when he savvys that his last appearance is bound to be a vict'ry an' +he'll be freighted to the sepulcher in a swell wagon like that.' + +"'It is shore calc'lated to confer class on the deeparted,' assents +Tutt. + +"These praises certainly exalts the sperits of the Turner person a +whole lot. He buys the old Lady Gay dance hall, which, since the goin' +out of the Votes for Women S'loon, has again become the ondispooted +property of Armstrong, makes a double-door to back in the hearse, an' +reopens that deefunct temple of drink an' merriment as a ondertakin' +establishment. Over the front he hangs up his sign. + + COFFIN EMPORIUM. + + L. TURNER, FUNERAL DIRECTOR. + + CORPSES SOLICITED. + +"That sign so much uplifts the sperit of the town it mor'n doubles the +day's receipts at the Red Light. Also, two or three shady characters +vamooses for fear of what a nacheral public eagerness to see that +hearse in action may do. + +"It's the day next on the hocks of the installation of the Turner +person in business, an' the fooneral director is lookin' out of the +front window of his coffin emporium wishin' some gent'd start +somethin' with his gun an' mebby bump him off a load for his new +hearse, when Enright eemerges from the post office with a iron look on +his face. Peets is with him, an' the pa'r is holdin' a pow-wow. + +"The rest of us might have taken more notice, only our sombreros is +fittin' some tight on account of the interest we evinces the day prior +in he'pin' la'nch the Turner person that a-way. As it is, we bats a +lackluster eye, an' wonders in a feeble way what's done corr'gated +Enright's brow. + +"It don't go no further than wonder, however, ontil after a few +moments talk with Nell, Enright sends across for the Turner person. As +showin' how keenly sens'tive are the female faculties that a-way, +Missis Rucker an' Tucson Jennie is canvassin' some infantile mal'dy of +little Enright Peets in the front room of the O. K. House, an' same as +if they smells the onyoosual in the air, they comes troopin' over to +the Red Light to note what happens next. + +"'Young man,' says Enright, when the Turner person has been brought +in, 'by way of starter, let me inquire, be you preepared to surrender +your destinies, of which you're plumb onfitted to have charge, into +disgusted albeit kindly hands?' + +"The Turner person, some oneasy at seein' Moore, who's carelessly +toyin' with a lariat, edgin' 'round his way, allows in tremblin' tones +he is. + +"'Thar be those,' goes on Enright, 'who with the best intentions in +the world, has been explorin' the ins an' outs of your Sni-a-bar +troubles, an' while the clouds is measur'ble lifted the fresh light +shed on your concerns leaves you in a most imbecile sityooation. Which +if I thought that little Enright Peets, not yet in techin' distance of +his teens, hadn't got no more sense than you, much as I dotes upon +that baby I'd shore vote for his deemise. However, proceedin' with the +deal, thar's this to say: Nellie thar, writes to your Peggy +sweetheart, while I opens negotiations with old man Parks. I plans to +read you them replies, but after advisin' with the Doc, an' collectin' +the views of Nell, it's deemed s'fficient to tell you what you're +goin' to do, an' then head you fo'th to its accomplishment. Our +conj'int findin's, the same bein' consented to by old Parks in +writin', an' tearfully deesired by your Peggy sweetheart in what she +commoonicates to Nellie, is that you proceed at once to Sni-a-bar, an' +get them interrupted nuptials over. After which you'll be free to +return yere with your bride, an' take up the hon'rable an' useful +c'reer you've marked out. As the preesidin' officer of the Stranglers, +my word is that you be ready to start by next stage; which, onless +Monte gets so deep in licker that he tips that conveyance over a +bluff, should permit you to clasp your Peggy to your bosom an' kiss +the tears from her cheeks by the middle of next week.' + +"'But,' interjects the Turner person, his voice soundin' like the +terrified bleatin' of a sheep, 'can't you-all give me no glimmer of +what's wrong that time? I don't hanker overmuch to go back in darkened +ignorance, like a lamb to the slaughter. What guarantee have I got +that old Parks won't lay for me with that bootcher knife of his'n? It +ain't fair to leave me to go knockin' about, in the midst of perils +sech as these, like a blind dog in a meat shop.' + +"'Your Peggy,' returns Enright, 'encloses a letter to you by the hand +of Nellie yere, which may or may not set fo'th what insults you +perp'trates upon her fam'ly. Also, said missive furnishes the only +chance at this end of the trail of you findin' out the len'th an' +breadth of your ignorant iniquities. For myse'f, the thought of what +you-all does that time is so infooriatin' I must refuse to go over it +in words. Only, if in his first reesentments old Parks had burned you +at the stake, I would not have condemned him. As to your safety +pers'nal, you can regyard it as asshored. Your Peggy will protect you, +an' your footure parent-in-law himse'f acquits you of everything +except bein' an eediot. It's, however, got down to whether he preefers +to have a fool in his fam'ly or see his darter wretched for life, an' +he's done nerved himse'f to take the fool.' + +"'Thar's your sweetheart's letter,' an' Nell puts an envelope which +smells of voylets into the Turner person's hands. + +"That ondertaker reads it; an' after bein' confoosed by shame for a +moment, he begins to cheer up. + +"'Folks,' he says, kissin' his Peggy's letter an' stowin' it away in +his coat, 'I trusts a gen'rous public will permit me, after thankin' +them whose kindness has smoothed out the kinks in my affairs, to close +the incident with onlimited drinks for the camp.' That's all he says; +an' neither can we dig anything further out of Enright or Nell. + +"We sees the Turner person aboard the stage, an' wishes him all kinds +of luck. As Monte straightens out the reins over his six hosses an' +cleans the lash of his whip through his fingers, Peets vouchsafes a +partin' word. + +"'Neither I nor Sam,' says Peets, 'wants you to go away thinkin' that +you an' your bride ain't goin' to be as welcome as roses when you an' +she comes ramblin' in as one on your return.' + +"'That's whatever,' coincides Nell. + +"'Also,' breaks in Enright, 'should old Parks go to stampin' the sod +or shakin' his horns, you-all are to put up with them deemonstrations +an' not make no aggrevatin' reemarks. No one knows better than you by +now, how much cause you gives that proud old gent to feel harrowed.' + +[Illustration: WE SEES THE TURNER PERSON ABOARD AN' WISHES HIM ALL KINDS +OF LUCK. p. 222.] + +"Of course all of us is preyed on by anxiety to know whatever awful +thing it is the Turner person does. In the end it's Missis Rucker who +smokes Enright out. + +"'Sam Enright,' says this yere intrepid lady, her manner plenty +darklin', 'you mustn't forget that whenever the impulse moves me I can +shet down utter on your grub. Likewise, as a lady, I not only knows my +p'sition, but keenly feels my rights. Which I don't aim to coerce you, +but onless you comes through with the trooth about this yere Turner +person's felonies, some drastic steps is on their way.' + +"'You will see, Missis Rucker,' says Enright, who's to be excoosed for +turnin' a bit white, 'that no present reason exists for threatenin' me +when I asshores you that as far back as last evenin' I fully decides +to lay bar' everything. I do this, onderstand, not through fear; but +lest some folks go surmisin' round to the inj'ry of the innocent. As I +recollects back, too, I can see how the Turner person slumps into that +mistake, him first talkin' dog to that canine party in Battle Row, +an' then askin' whar does he go for the weddin' license.' + +"'Sam Enright,' interrupts Missis Rucker, whose flashin' eyes shows +she's growin' hysterical, 'don't harass me with no p'intless speeches. +You say flat what it is he does, or take the consequences.' + +"'Why, my dear Missis Rucker,' an' Enright makes haste with his reply, +'the thing is easily grasped. The paper he gives the preacher sharp is +a dog license. Which that Turner person is seekin' to wed the belle of +Sni-a-bar on a permit to keep a dog! The canine party he meets in +Battle Row misonderstands a sityooation.' + +"'All the same,' observes Texas to Boggs, as the two meets that +evenin' in the Noo York store, 'thar's one feachure to a dog license, +not perceivable in a marriage license, which is worth gold an' +precious stones. Said docyooment runs out in a year.'" + + + + +IX + +RED MIKE + + +"Mebby you-all recalls about that Polish artist person?" suggested the +old cattleman, tentatively; "him I speaks of former?" My gray old +_campañero_ was measuring out what he called his "forty drops," and, +since this ceremony necessitated keeping one eye on his glass, while +he endeavored to keep the other eye on me, the contradictory effort +resulted in a wavering and uncertain expression, not at all in harmony +with his usual positive air. By way of helping conversation, I +confessed to a clear remembrance of the "Polish artist person," and +wound up by urging him to give the particulars concerning that +interesting exile. + +"Well," he cautiously returned, "thar ain't nothin' so mighty +thrillin' in his Wolfville c'reer. You see he ain't, for the most, no +pop'lar figure--him bein' a furriner, that a-way, an' a artist, an' +sufferin' besides from conceit in so acoote a form as to make it no +exaggeration to say he's locoed. On account of these yere divers an' +sundry handicaps, he don't achieve no social success, an' while he's +with us, you'd hardly call him of us. + +"Not that I objects to this deescendant of Warsaw's last champion, +personal. Which I'm a heap like Enright in sech reespects, an' +shore tol'rant. I finds out long ago that the reason we-all goes +fault-findin' about people, mostly is because we don't onderstand +concernin' them folk's surroundin's. Half the things we arches our +necks over, an' for which mebby we feels like killin' 'em a whole +lot, they can't he'p none. If we only savvys what they're reely up +ag'inst, it's four for one we pities 'em instead. + +"It's like one time 'way back yonder, when me an' Steve Stevenson has +a sudden an' abrupt diffukulty with a buffalo bull. We're camped out +on the edge of the Rockies near the Spanish Peaks, an' me an' Steve, +in the course of a little _passear_ we're takin', is jest roundin' a +bunch of plum bushes when, as onexpected as a gun play in a Bible +class, that devil's son an' heir of a bull--who's been hid by the +bushes--ups an charges. Which you should have seen me an' Steve +scatter! We certainly do onbuckle in some hasty moves! He's bigger 'n +a baggage wagon, an' as we leaves our guns ten rods away in camp, +thar's nothin' for it but to dig out. + +"Nigh whar I'm at is a measley _pinon_ tree, an' the way I swarms +aloft among that vegetable's boughs an' branches comes mighty clost to +bein' a lesson to mountain lions. Steve, who's the onluckiest sport +west of the Missouri, an' famed as sech, ain't got no tree. The best +he can do is go divin' into a hole he sees in some rocks, same as if +he's a jack-rabbit with a coyote in hot pursoote. + +"Me an' Steve both bein' safe, an' reegyardin' that bull as baffled, I +draws a breath of relief. That is, to be ackerate, I starts to draw +it; but before I so much as gets it started, yere that inordinate +Steve comes b'ilin' out of his hole ag'in like he ain't plumb +satisfied about that bull. The bull's done give him up, too, an' +switchin' his tail some thoughtful has started to go away, when, as I +tells you, that fool Steve comes surgin' out upon his reetreatin' +hocks. + +"Nacherally, what could any se'f-respectin' bull do but wheel an' +chase Steve back? It's no use, though; Steve won't have it. No sooner +does the bull get him hived that a-way, an' make ready to reetire to +private life ag'in, than, bing! yere Steve comes bulgin' like a cork +out of a bottle. An' so it continyoos, a reg'lar see-saw between Steve +an' the bull. Steve'll go into his cave of refooge, prairie-dog +fashion, a foot ahead of the bull's horns, only to be a foot behind +the bull's tail as that painstakin' anamile is arrangin' to deepart. + +"Which sech wretched strategy arouses my contempt. + +"'You dad-binged Siwash,' I yells down at Steve, 'whyever don't +you-all stay in that hole, ontil the bull forgets whar you're at?' + +"'Go on!' Steve shouts back, as in he dives, head-first, for mebby +it's the twentieth time; 'it's as simple as suckin' aiggs, ain't it, +for you up in your tree? You-all don't know nothin' about this hole; +thar's a b'ar in this hole!' + +"Which I allers remembers about that dilemmy of Steve's. An' now, when +I beholds a gent makin' some rannikaboo break, an' everybody's +scoffin' at him an' deenouncin' him for a loonatic or worse, I +reeflects that mighty likely if we-all was to go examine the hole he's +in, we'd find it plumb full of b'ar. + +"Returnin' to the orig'nal proposition, the same bein' that Polack, +let me begin by sayin' that whenever it comes to any utterances of +his'n, I'm nacherally onable to quote him exact. What with him rollin' +his 'Rs' ontil they sounds like one of them snare drums, an' the +jiggerty-jerkety fashion wharin he chops up his English, a gent might +as soon try to quote a planin' mill exact. + +"That I'm able to give you-all his troo name is doo wholly to him +passin' round his kyard a heap profoose, when he first comes ramblin' +in, said cognomen as printed bein' 'Orloff Ivan Mitzkowanski, Artist +and Painter of Portraits.' We perooses this yere fulm'nation two or +three times, an' Peets even reads it out loud; but since the tongue of +no ordinary gent is capable of ropin' an' throwin' it, to say nothin' +of tyin' it down, we cuts the gordian knot in the usual way by +re-christenin' him _pro bono publico_ as Red Mike, which places him +within the verbal reach of all. + +"'Yes,' he says, as he ladles out them kyards, an' all with the +manner of a prince conferrin' favors--'yes, I'm a artist come to you, +seekin' subjects an' color. As you probably observes by my name, I'm a +gallant Pole, one whose noble ancestors shrieks when Kosciusko fell.' + +"Him bein' a stranger that a-way, an' no one, onless it's Peets, ever +havin' heard about Poland, or Kosciusko, or whoever does that +shriekin' the time when Kosciusko finds himse'f bumped off, we lets +Mike get by with this yere bluff. Besides, his name of itse'f sort o' +holds us. That anyone, an' specially any furriner, could come as far +as he has, flauntin' a name like that in the sensitive face of +mankind, an' yet live to tell the tale, is shore plenty preepar'tory +to believin' anything. + +"When we lets it go that owin' to local conditions we'll be obleeged +to call him 'Red Mike,' he's agree'ble. + +"'As you will, my friends,' he cries, bulgin' out his breast an' +thumpin' it. 'What care I, who am destined for immortality, that +barbarians should hail me as Red Mike? It is enough that I am not +destroyed, enough that I still move an' have my bein'!' + +"'Mike,' interjecks Tutt, bristlin' a little, 'don't cut loose in no +offensive flights. It's a heap onadvisable when addressin' us to +overwork that word "barbarian." As you says yourself, you're lucky to +be alive; which, bein' conceded, it'd be plenty proodent on your part +not to go doin' nothin' to change your luck.' + +"'Steady thar, Dave,' says Enright, 'don't go exhibitin' your teeth to +a pore benighted furriner, an' him not onto our curves.' + +"'Him bein' a furriner,' retorts Tutt, 'is but a added argyooment in +favor of him takin' heed. Speakin' for myse'f, I in partic'lar don't +want no furriner to step on my tail an' stand thar, same as if my +feelin's ain't goin' to count.' + +"'Be composed, my friend,' says Mike, tryin' to follow Enright out an' +squar' himse'f with Tutt--'be composed. I reetract the "barbarians" +an' suggest a drink.' + +"'That's all right, Mike,' returns Tutt, who's easy mollified; 'still +I onreservedly says ag'in that in Arizona thar's nothin' in becomin' +too difoose. All that this time lets you out, Mike, is that havin' +jest had our feed we're happ'ly lethargic. Which if you'd let fly +that crack about barbarians, an' us not fed none, some gent not +otherwise employed 'd have seized upon you as a mop-rag wharwith to +wipe up the floor.' + +"Thar's allers a dispoote as to whether or no Mike reely commits +sooicide that time. Tutt an' Texas holds to the last that his light +gettin' blowed out like it does is accidental. Peets, however, insists +it's a shore-enough sooicide. Of course, Boggs goes with Peets. +Whatever's the question at bay, Boggs never fails to string his play +with the Doc's; it's Boggs's system. All you has to do to get a rise +out o' Boggs is get some opinion out o' Peets. Once the Doc declar's +himse'f, Boggs is right thar to back said declaration for his last +dollar every time. + +"As sustainin' his claim of sooicide, Peets p'ints out that thar's no +gent, not a howlin' eediot complete, but knows s'fficient of giant +powder to be dead on to how it's cap'ble of bein' fired by friction. + +"'Why,' he says, eloocidatin' his p'sition, 'even darkened savages is +posted as to that. I once sees a South Sea Islander, in a moose-yum +East, who sets a bunch of shavin's in a blaze by rubbin' together two +sticks. An' this yere Mike is a eddycated sharp, eddicated at a Dutch +outfit called Heidelberg. Do you-all reckon a gradyooate of sech a +sem'nary ever walks out on a cold collar, him not wise, an' performs +in the numbskull fashions as this yere Mike?' + +"'That's whatever!' chimes in Boggs. + +"As I tells you, any emphatic idee laid down by Peets instantly sets +Boggs to strikin' same as one of them cuckoo clocks. + +"Enright? + +"The old silver tip stands nootral, not sidin' with either Peets an' +Boggs or Tutt an' Texas. + +"'Which this yere Mike bein' shore dead,' says Enright, 'strikes me as +s'fficient. I plants my moccasins on that, an' don't go pirootin' an' +projectin' about for no s'lootions which may or may not leave me out +on a limb.' + +"You recalls how it's Monte who, while gettin' drunk with him over to +the Oriental S'loon in Tucson, deloodes Mike into p'intin' our way. +Also, what Enright says to that deboshed stage driver for so doin'. +Enright's shore fervent on that occasion, an' the language he uses +would have killed two acres of grass. But that don't he'p none. After +the dust Enright paws up has settled, thar's Mike still, all quiled up +in the Wolfville lap. + +"Thar's a worse feachure, the same bein' Mike's wife. She's as young, +an' mighty nigh as lovely, too, as Nell; only she's blind, this yere +Mike's girl wife is, blind as any midnight mole. Besides her, an' a +armful of paint breshes an' pictures, about all Mike's got in the way +of plunder is a ten-dollar bill. If it's only Mike, we-all might have +thickened our hides a heap, an' let him go jumpin' sideways for his +daily grub, same as other folks. But girls must be fed, speshully +blind ones. + +"Which this egreegious Mike, who calls her his 'little Joolie,' allows +her bein' blind that a-way is why he marries her. + +"'It inshores her innocence,' he says; 'because it inshores her +ignorance of the world.' + +"'Likewise,' remarks Peets, as we stands discussin' this yere +reasonin' of Mike's in the Red Light, 'it inshores her ignorance of +them onmitigated pictures he paints. Which if ever she was just to get +one good look at 'em, he couldn't hold her with a Spanish bit. But +you-all knows how it is, Sam?'--Yere Peets clinks his glass, an' all +mighty sagacious, ag'inst Enright's--'The wind is tempered to the +shorn lamb. On the whole, I ain't none convinced that her bein' blind, +that a-way, ain't for the best.' + +"To look at this little Joolie, you-all'd never know she can't see +none. Her eyes is big an' soft an' deep, an nothin' queer about 'em +except they has a half-blurred, baby look. Peets allows it's the nerve +bein' dead which does it. But blind or not, little Joolie shore dotes +on that Red Mike husband of hers, as though he's made of love an' +gold. Which he's her heaven! + +"While it's evident, after a ca'm an' onbiased consideration of +his works, that from standp'ints of art this yere Mike's about +sign-painter size, little Joolie regyards him as the top-sawyer +genius of this or any other age. + +"'He'll revolutionize the world of art,' she declar's to Nell, who's +mighty constant about goin' to see her; 'Ivan'--she pronounces it +'Vahn'--'is ondoubted destined to become the founder of a noo +school.' + +"'An' her face,' goes on Nellie, as she tells us about it over to the +O. K. Restauraw one evenin', after Mike an' his little Joolie wife's +done pulled their freight for the night--'an' her face glows with the +faith of a angel! So if any of you-all boys finds occasion to speak of +this yere Mike in her presence, you be shore an' sw'ar that, as an +artist, he's got nacher backed plumb off the lay-out.' + +"'The wretch who fails,' adds Missis Rucker, plenty fierce, 'don't +wrastle his hash with me no more! You can gamble that marplot has +tackled his final plateful of slapjacks at the O. K. House, an' this +yere's notice to that effect.' + +"It's a cinch, of course, that none of us is that obtoose as to go +sayin' anything to pain this yere blind little Joolie; at the same +time no one regyards it as feas'ble to resent them threats of Missis +Rucker! She's a mighty sperited matron, Missis Rucker is, sperited to +the verge of bein' vindictive, an' rubbin' her fur the wrong way is +the same as rubbin' a bobcat's fur the wrong way. As a exercise thar's +nothin' in it. Besides, we're plumb used to it, owin' to her +threatenin' us about one thing or another constant. Menaces, that +a-way, is Missis Rucker's style. + +"Mike an' his Joolie wife don't live at the O. K. House, but only gets +their chuck thar. He allows that to do jestice to his art he's got to +have what he calls a 'no'th light,' an' so he goes meanderin' out on +the no'th side of town, an' jumps a empty shack. + +"Driv by a lack of money, mighty likely, Mike ain't in camp a week +before he makes it plenty plain that, onless he's headed off or +killed, he's goin' to paint Enright a whole lot. As a preelim'nary he +loores a passel of us over to his wickeyup to show us samples. + +"'That's my chef dever,' he says, bringin' for'ard a smudgy lookin' +canvas, plastered all over with reds an' browns. + +"We-all takes a slant at it, maintainin' ourselves meanwhile as grave +as a passel of owls. An' at that the most hawk-eyed in the outfit +can't make it look like nothin'. We-all hangs back in the straps, an' +waits for Peets to take the lead. For thar is the pretty little blind +Joolie wife, all y'ears an' lovin' int'rest, an' after what Nell an' +Missis Rucker has done said the gent who lacerates her feelin's is +lost. In sech a pinch Peets is our guidin' light. + +"'Massive!' says Peets, after a pause. + +"'Which she's shore a heap massive!' we murmurs, followin' Peets' +smoke. + +"'An' sech atmosphere!' Peets goes on. + +"'Atmosphere to give away!' we echoes. + +"At these yere encomiyums the pore pleased face of little Joolie is +beamin' like the sun. As for Mike, he assoomes a easy attitoode, same +as though compliments means nothin' to him. + +"'What's the subject?' Peets asks. + +"'That, my friend, is the _Linden in October_,' returns Mike, as +though he's showin' us a picture of heaven's front gate. 'Yes, the +_Linden in October_.' + +"'Which if this yere Pole,' whispers Texas to Cherokee, 'is able to +make anything out of that smear, he can shore see more things without +the aid of licker than any sport that ever spreads his blankets in +Cochise County.' + +"Texas is a heap careful not to let either Mike or the little Joolie +girl ketch on to what he says. + +"Also, it's worth recallin' that Mike an' the little Joolie is the +only wedded pa'r, of which the Southwest preeserved a record, that +don't bring bilious recollections to Texas of his former Laredo wife. + +[Illustration: "WHAT'S THE SUBJECT?" PEETS ASKS. "THAT, MY FRIEND, IS THE +'LINDEN IN OCTOBER,'" RETURNS MIKE, AS THOUGH HE'S A SHOWIN' US A PICTURE +OF HEAVEN'S FRONT GATE. p. 238.] + +"'Not but what thar's a wrong thar, Doc,' he insists, the time Peets +mentions it; 'not but what this yere Red Mike-Joolie sityooation +harbors a wrong. Only it's onavailable to 'llustrate the illyoosage I +suffers at the hands of my Laredo wife.' + +"After the _Linden_ Mike totes out mebby it's a dozen other smeary +squar's of canvas. We goes over 'em one by one, cockin' our eyes an' +turnin' our heads first one way an' then another, like a bloo jay +peerin' into a knothole. When Peets lets drive something about 'sky +effects,' an' 'fore-grounds,' an' 'middle-distance,' we stacks in all +sim'lar. Thar's nothin' to it; Mike an' the little Joolie girl puts in +a mighty pleasant hour. + +"Mike, feelin' hospit'ble, an' replyin' to a thirsty look which Jack +Moore sort o' sheds about the room, reegrets he ain't got no whiskey. + +"'My little Joolie objectin',' he explains. + +"'Oh, well,' speaks up Peets, who's plumb eager to bring them art +studies to a wind-up, 'when thar's famine in Canaan thar's corn in +Egypt. S'ppose we-all goes romancin' over to the Red Light an' licker +up. Thar's nothin' like nosepaint, took internal, for bringin' out a +picture's convincin' p'ints.' + +"'Right you be, Doc,' says Moore. 'It's only last week, when I myse'f +cuts the trail of Monte, who, as the froote of merely the seventh +drink, is sheddin' scaldin' tears over a three-sheet poster stuck onto +the corral gate. This yere stampede in color deepicts the death of +"Little Eva," as preesented in the _Uncle Tom_ show ragin' over to the +Bird Cage Op'ry House. Monte allows it's one of the most movin' things +he's ever met up with, an' protests between sobs ag'inst takin' out +the stage that day for its reg'lar trip. "Which it's a hour for +mournin'," he groans; an' he's shore shocked when the company insists. +As he throws free the brake he shakes the tears from his eyes, an' +says, "These yere corp'rations ain't got no heart!"' + +"If thar's ever any chance of Enright bein' that weak the sight of +them smudges an' smears settles it, an' while we stands shovin' the +Old Jordan along the Red Light bar, he allows to Mike that on the +whole he don't reckon he'll have himse'f painted none. Rememberin', +however, that it's a ground-hawg case with Mike, who needs the money, +Enright gives him a commission to paint Monte. + +"'Him bein' a histor'cal character, that a-way,' says Enright. + +"Monte is over in Tucson, but you should have heard that drunkard's +language when he's told. + +"'Whatever be you-all tryin' to do to me, Sam?' he wails. 'Ain't a +workin' man got no rights? Yere be I, the only gent in camp who has +actchooal dooties to perform, an' a plot is set afoot behind my back +to make me infamous!' + +"'It's to go over the Red Light bar,' explains Enright, 'to be a +horr'ble example for folks with a tendency to over-drink. As for you +yellin' like a pig onder a gate, who is it, I asks, that beguiles this +indigent artist party into camp, an' leaves him on our hands? Bein' +he's yere, I takes it that even your whiskey-drowned intell'gence +ree'lizes that this yere Mike, an' speshully the little blind Joolie, +has got to be fed.' + +"'Well, gents,' returns Monte, gulpin' down his grief with his +nosepaint, 'I reckons if it's your little game to use me as a +healthful moral inflooence, I'd lose out to go puttin' up a roar. All +the same, as sufferer in chief, I'm entitled to be more consulted by +you uplifters before ever you arranges to perpetchooate me to +poster'ty as a common jeer.' + +"Shore; these yere protests of Monte's ain't more'n half on the level. +After a fashion, he's plenty pleased. + +"'For,' he says, confidin' in Black Jack over his licker, 'it ain't +every longhorn of a stage driver whose picture is took by one of these +yere gifted Yooropeans.' + +"Black Jack agrees to this in full, for he's a good-hearted barkeep, +that a-way. + +"In doo time the picture's hung up back of the Red Light bar. +Regyarded as a portrait it's shore some desp'rate, an' even Enright +sort o' half reepents. Monte, after studyin' it a while, begins to get +sore in earnest. Them scales, like the scriptoors say, certainly do +fall from his eyes. + +"'Jack,' he says, appealin' to Moore, who happens to be present, 'does +that thing look like me?' + +"'Why, yes,' Jack replies, squintin' his left eye a heap critical; 'to +be shore it flatters you some, but then them artists gen'rally does.' + +"'Jack, if I'm that feeble as to go believin' what you says, I'd borry +a shotgun from the express company and blow off the top of my head. +That ain't the portrait of no hooman bein"--an' Monte raises a +dispa'rin' hand at the picture; 'it's a croode preesentation of some +onnacheral cross between a coyote and a cowskin trunk.' + +"Cherokee gets up from behind his lay-out, an' strolls over so's to +get a line on the picture. He takes a long an' disparagin' survey. + +"'It ain't that I'm incitin' you to voylence, Monte,' he remarks +final, 'but if you owes a dooty to s'ciety, don't forget that you owes +also a dooty to yourse'f. You'll be lackin' in se'f-respect if you +don't give Sam Enright two weeks to take that outrage down, an' if it +ain't removed by then you'll bust it.' + +"Black Jack is ag'in the picture, too. + +"'Not,' he says, 'that I wants to put the smother on it entire; only I +figger it'd look better in the post office, folks not makin' it so +much of a hangout. Regyarded commercial, it's a setback to the Red +Light. Some gent comes trackin' up intent on drinks, an' feelin' gala. +After one glance at Monte up thar it's all off. That reveller's +changed his mind, an' staggers out into the open ag'in without a word. +The joint is daily knocked for about the price of a stack of bloos, as +the direct result of that work of art. Which I'd as soon have a gila +monster in the winder.' + +"Mike ain't present none when all this yere flattery is flyin'. If he +was thar in person nothin' would have been said. Whoever'd be that +hardened as to go harrowin' up the sens'tive soul of a artist, even if +his work don't grade as corn-fed? + +"Some later tribyoote to his talents, however, reaches the y'ears of +Mike. On the back of Black Jack's protests the Lightnin' Bug, who's +come over from Red Dog for a little visit, drifts in. When he sees +Monte's portrait his eyes lights up like a honka-tonk on Saturday +night. + +"'Rattlesnakes an' stingin' lizards!' he cries; 'which I'm a Mexican +if you-all ain't gone an' got him painted! However do you-all manage? +I remembers when we captures him it's the last spring round-up but +one. Two weeks goes by before ever we gets him so he'll w'ar clothes! +An' even then we-all has to blindfold him an' back him in!' + +"'Whoever do you reckon that is, Bug?' asks Black Jack. + +"'It's that locoed Digger Injun, ain't it?' says the Bug; 'him we +corrals, that time, livin' on ants an' crickets, an' roots an' yarbs, +over in Potato canyon?' + +"'It's Monte.' + +"'Monte! Does anybody get killed about it?' + +"Black Jack mentions Mike as the artist. + +"'What, that Dutch galoot with the long ha'r?' says the Bug. + +"'Which he's a Pole.' + +"'Pole or Dutchman, what's the odds? I sees a party back in Looeyville +whose ha'r's most as long as his. We entices him to a barber shop on a +bet to have it cut, an' I'm ag'in the union if four flyin' squirrels +don't come scootin' out. They've been nestin' in it.' + +"The Bug swings lightly into the saddle after a while, an' goes +clatterin' back to Red Dog. No notice would have been took of what he +says, only Monte, who hears it from Black Jack, is that malev'lent he +goes an' tells Mike. + +"'You-all will make trouble between 'em, Monte,' Nell reemonstrates, +when Monte's braggin' in his besotted way about what he's done. + +"'That's all right, Nellie. Both of 'em's been insultin' me; Mike by +paintin' me so I'm a holy show, an' the Bug by lettin' on to take me +for a Digger buck. S'ppose the Bug downs Mike, or Mike does up the +Bug? Either way it's oats in your uncle Monte's feed box. That's me, +Nellie; that's your old uncle Monte every time! Which, when it comes +to cold intrigue, that a-way, I'm the swiftest sport in our set.' + +"On hearin' about the Bug from Monte Mike gets plenty intemp'rate. He +goes plumb in the air, an' stays thar. He gives it out that he's goin' +to prance over to Red Dog an' lay for the Bug. Nothin' but blood is +goin' to do him. + +"Thar's nothin' we can say or do to stop Mike, so after talkin' it +over a spell we deecides to throw him loose, Enright first sendin' +word that he's harmless, an' not to be bumped off. + +"Upon receivin' Enright's word the Red Dog chief passes on a warnin' +to the Bug. Mike mustn't, onder no circumstances, be killed. Bein' +he's a artist he's not reespons'ble. + +"'Me kill him!' cries the Bug, who's scandalized at the idee; 'me take +a gun to sech a insect! Gents, I've too much reespect for them good +old faithful .45's of mine to play it as low down on 'em as all +that.' + +"Which there leeniencies I allers feels is on account of the little +Joolie, an' the blind love she entertains for Mike. When the worst +does come we carefully conceals from her the troo details, an' insists +that the powder house goes off by itse'f. + +"Then Nell, with Tucson Jennie and Missis Rucker to back her, carries +the little Joolie girl the news. It's shore tough papers; an' Missis +Rucker an' Tucson Jennie is kept racin' an' runnin' an' riotin' +between the O. K. House an' Mike's wickeyup, freightin' over camphor +an' sim'lar reestor'tives to the little Joolie all night long, while +Nellie holds her head. + +"Does Mike's kickin' the bucket leave the little Joolie broke? It's +this a-way: You see we-all chips in, an' makes up a fa'rly moderate +pile to buy the _Linden in October_. + +"'It's to remember your gifted husband by,' explains Enright, as him +an' Peets an' Boggs goes over to clink down the gold, an' get the +_Linden_. 'This yere transcendent spec'men shall never leave our +hands.' + +"'Not while we live!' declar's Peets. + +"'It's a marv'lous picture!' returns the little Joolie girl, proud and +tearful both at once. + +"'Marv'lous!' repeats Peets; 'it's got the _Angelus_ beat four ways +from the Jack.' + +"'Which I should remark!' puts in Boggs. 'Why, Doc, this yere _Linden_ +of ours shore makes that _Angelus_ thing look like an old beer +stamp.' + +"These yere outpourin's of onreestricted admiration shore does set the +little Joolie to smilin' through her tears. Also, the bankroll they +brings her sends her back to her folks in style. + +"So you don't regyard it as the proper caper to go deceivin' the +little Joolie girl? That's preecisely the p'sition a Bible sharp over +in Tucson takes, when some party's mentionin' the business. + +"'You go tell that doubtin' Thomas of a sky-pilot,' says Peets, on +hearin' about it, 'that he can bet a ton of Watts' hymn books on it. +You-all say, too, for his pulpit guidance, that what looks like +deceit, that a-way, is often simple del'cacy, while Christian charity +freequent w'ars the face of fraud.' + +"But I'm gettin' ahead of the wagons. Mike, who's a heap heated, goes +lookin' for the Bug in the Tub of Blood S'loon. The Bug don't happen +to be vis'ble no whar in the scen'ry when Mike comes clatterin' in. By +way of a enterin' wedge Mike subscribes for a drink. As the Tub +barkeep goes settin' out the glasses Mike, with his custom'ry gifts +for gettin' himse'f in wrong, starts fomentin' trouble. An' at that +it's simply his ignorance, an' a conceited deesire to show off among +them Red Dogs. + +"As the Tub barkeep slams down the crockery Mike barks up sort o' +sharp an' peevish: + +"'The ice! Ain't you people got no ice?' + +"The Tub barkeep takes a sour squinch-owl look at Mike. Then he goes +softly swabbin' off the counter. + +"After a while he looks up an' says: + +"'Which you don't notice no swirlin' drifts of snow outside, do you? +You ain't been swallowed up in no blizzard, be you, comin' into town? +No, my stilted, stiff-laigged sheep of the mountain, we ain't got no +ice.' + +"Mike, feelin' some buffaloed by the barkeep's manner, don't say no +more. In silence he drinks his licker, an' then sets down at a table. + +"The barkeep, with the tail of his eye, continyoos to look him over. + +"'Whatever do you make of that crazy maverick,' he asks of a +freighter, who's jest rolled in from Lordsburg. 'The idee of him +askin' for ice in August!' + +"'Mebby he's the ha'r-brained party they sends word about from +Wolfville,' the freighter replies--'him who's out to crawl the Bug's +hump a whole lot?' + +"'That's the identical persimmon!' exclaims the barkeep, slammin' his +hand on the counter. 'Which I ought to have knowed it without bein' +told. I wonder if Peets, or some of them other Wolfville sports, puts +him up to come bully-raggin' round yere about ice to insult us?' + +"The freighter allows he'll edge into a pow-wow with Mike, an' feel +him out. + +"Planted at the same table, the freighter an' Mike is soon as thick as +thieves. They're gettin' along like two pups in a basket, when in +comes a disturbin' element in the shape of one of them half-hoss +half-alligator felons, whose distinguishin' characteristic is that +they're allers grouchy an' hostile. That's the drawback to Red Dog. It +certainly is the home camp of some of the most ornery reptiles, that +a-way! + +"The grouchy sorehead party, from the jump, gets dissatisfied about +Mike's ha'r, which he w'ars a foot long same as all artists. Which a +gent can't be no painter onless he's got ha'r like a cow pony. The +sorehead party marches up an' down by the table whar Mike an' the +freighter is swappin' lies, schemin' as to how he's goin' to make a +warlike hook-up with Mike. After a spell he thinks he sees his way +through, an' rounds to an' growls. + +"'What's that? Does one of your onparalleled tarrapins say something +deerog'tory about George Washin'ton?' + +"Both the freighter an' Mike looks up some amazed, but pleads not +guilty. They ain't, they says, even thinkin' of Washin'ton. + +"'Which I begs your parding,' returns Sorehead, snortin' mighty +haughty an' elab'rate; 'I fancies I hears some one make some +onbecomin' remark about Washin'ton. Mighty likely it's that licker I +drinkt last night.' + +"Two minutes later he halts ag'in. + +"'It ain't possible I'm mistook this time. An' at that I don't +precisely ketch what you offensive ground-owls is observin' about +Thomas Jefferson?' + +"Mike an' the Lordsburg freighter insists vehement that thar's been no +alloosion to Jefferson, none whatever. + +"'Parding!' Sorehead snorts; 'ag'in I asks parding! As former, I finds +I'm barkin' at a bunch of leaves. My y'ear deeceives me into thinkin' +that you two fool ground-owls is indulgin' in reecrim'nations ag'inst +Thomas Jefferson.' + +"It's the third time, an' Sorehead's back, neck bowed an' fingers +workin'. + +"'Now thar's no error! Which one of you cheap prairie dogs makes that +low-flung statement about old Andy Jackson? Let him speak up, an' I'll +give him a hundred dollars before devourin' his heart.' + +"'No one mentions Jackson,' says Mike, who's becomin' frightened an' +fretted; 'whatever's the idee of any one talkin' about Jackson, +anyhow?' + +"'Oh, ho! Perhaps, my bold galoot, you think old Andy ain't worth +talkin' about!' + +"Sayin' which, that sorehead malcontent reaches for Mike, an' the two +go sailin' 'round the room permiscus. Sorehead picks Mike up, an' +sweeps a cord or two of glasswar' off the bar with him. Then he +employs him in bringin' down a picture from the wall. After which he +nacherally tosses him hither an' yon in the most irrel'vant way. + +"Sorehead has jest reached up with Mike, an' smashed a chandelier +carryin' fourteen coal-oil lamps, when in t'ars the Lightnin' Bug, +white an' frothin'. The Bug don't waste no time lookin' for holds, but +casyooally, yet no less s'fficiently, snags onto Sorehead. Fixin' his +ten claws in him, the Bug fo'thwith embarks upon sech feats in the +way of ground an' lofty tumblin' with that gladiator, as to make what +happens to Mike seem pooerile. + +"'Don't you-all know,' shouts the Bug, as, havin' done broke a cha'r +with Sorehead, he proceeds to deevote what's left of him to smashin' a +table--'don't you-all know, you abandoned profligate, that this yere +artist you've been maltreatin' is a pers'nal friend of mine, yere +present in Red Dog to confab with me on important affairs? An' is it +for a houseless sot like you to take to minglin' with him malignant? +Yereafter don't you-all so much as presoome to breathe without first +gettin' my permission so to do in writin'!' + +"As closin' the incident the Bug sends Sorehead hurtlin' through a +window, sash an' all. After which he dusts off his hands an' says: + +"'Gents, let's licker.' + +"The barkeep's that gratified he declar's the drinks is on the Tub. + +"'Also, the glass an' sash, Bug,' he adds. + +"Bein' refreshed, the Bug tenderly collects Mike, who's in a frayed +an' fragmentary condition, an' gently freights him over to us on a +buckboard. It's a week before Peets allows he's ag'in ready for the +show ring, an' he uses up enough co't plaster on him to kyarpet the +Red Light. Little Joolie? We let's on to her that Mike meets up with a +she grizzly an' her cubs, an' while he cleans up that fam'ly he +nacherally gets chewed. + +"'Mike's shorely some abrated, ma'am,' explains Peets; 'but he's +mendin' fast. When I first lays eyes on him, after he encounters that +bevy of b'ars, it's a question if his skin'll hold his principles. But +don't take on, Ma'am; now I've got him headed right he'll be as good +as new in a week. Don't forget, too, that he shore does land that band +of grizzlies in the scrap-heap.' + +"Mike emerges from the hands of Peets filled with a pecooliar furrin' +form of wrath, an' talkin' about his honor. It's Sorehead he's after +now. As a noble Pole, he says, he has been most contoomeliously used, +an' insists upon a dooel. Not with the Bug, who's withdrew them +orig'nal jedgments concernin' old Monte's portrait, an' substitooted +tharfor the view that said picture's bound to become the artistic +pride an' joy of Arizona. Mike wants to fight the onreegen'rate +Sorehead. + +"In the flush of their new friendship Mike asks the Bug to heel an' +handle him. Also, it's warmin' to your better nacher to note the +enthoosiasm wharwith the Bug takes up his dooties. + +"'It'll be six-shooters at ten paces,' he explains to Mike; 'an' if +you only shoots like you paints, we'll send that tramp whar the wicked +cease from troublin' an' the weary are at rest.' + +"The Red Dog chief gives his word to Enright that Mike ain't in no +danger. + +"'Comin' down to cases,' says the Red Dog chief; 'it's even money that +this yere Sorehead crawfishes. If he don't we've got it all set up to +hand him the Bug, instead of that Red Mike artist of yours. So you see +thar's lit'rally nothin' for you-all wolves to worry over at all.' + +"'We-all wolves ain't in the habit of worryin' to any astoundin' +extent,' returns Enright, some rigid; 'none the less, I allows I'll +take a look through the sights myse'f, merely by way of makin' shore +which way the gun is p'inted. Thar's reasons, one of 'em a lovin' +little blind girl, why we're not so plumb partic'lar about havin' this +yere alleged artist party put over the jump.' + +"The fight's a week away, an' by advice of the Bug, Mike decides to +put a polish on his shootin'. This yere's reckoned a bright idee, the +more since as near as we-all can jedge Mike never does pull a trigger +once since when his mother rocks his cradle an' warms his milk. + +"'Only,' warns Enright, as Mike goes makin' prep'rations, 'don't +you-all go aimin' towards town none. We don't want no neeophytes +bombardin' the village, which y'ar in an' y'ar out sees bullets enough +in the nacheral onfoldment of eevents.' + +"Mike, not havin' no gun, borrys a .45 of Moore. Thus equipped, he +secoores some cartridges at the Noo York store, an' la'nches forth. No +one goes with him, since he allows he'll shoot better if he's by +himse'f. + +"Thar's a powder house, belongin' to the Copper Queen Mine, about a +mile outside of town. It stands off by itse'f an' nothin' near it, no +one honin' much to live neighbor to a ton or two of powder. It's about +fifth drink time the mornin' Mike seelects for his practice shootin' +when, like a bolt from the bloo, that Copper Queen powder house goes +up with a most emphatic whang! What Peets calls the 'concussion' +breaks windows in the Wells-Fargo office, an' shakes up the Red Light +to that extent it brings down Monte's picture an' busts it to forty +flinders on the bottles. + +"'Which for a moment,' says Black Jack, commentin' on the gen'ral mess +it makes, 'I thinks it's one of Colonel Sterett's _Coyote_ editorials +on the licker question.' + +"That powder blow-up marks the onforchoonate last of Mike. Since he +never does show up no more, an' a Mexican tendin' goats in the +vicin'ty informs us he sees him pinnin' a target on the r'ar elevation +of the powder house jest prior to the explosion, it's the common +feelin' that the blow-up's caused by one of Mike's bullets, an' that +Mike an' the powder reepos'tory takes flight simooltaneous. Only, as +already set fo'th, Peets claims that Mike knows what's comin'. Mebby +Peets is right, an' mebby Mike that a-way commits sooicide. Whichever +it is, sooicide or accident, it's a mighty complete success; for the +only trace we're able to find of either Mike or the powder house is a +most elab'rate hole in the ground. + +"'The same bein', as I holds, a most excellent feachure,' says Boggs, +who loathes foonerals. 'This yere powder house way of cashin' in meets +with my approval. It shore don't leave no reemains!'" + + + + +X + +HOW TUTT SHOT TEXAS THOMPSON + + +"Which they starts the yarn in Red Dog that the shootin' that time +between Tutt an' Texas is born of sectional feelin', an' because +Texas is a southern gent, while Tutt comes from the No'th. Sech +explainations is absurd--as Doc Peets well says. Also, I'm yere to go +one word further an' state that, while it's like them Red Dogs, idle +an' mendacious as they freequent be, to go fosterin' sech fictions, +thar ain't a syllable of trooth tharin from soda to hock. The +flareup has its start in them two children, Annalinda Thompson an' +little Enright Peets, an' what sentiments of rivalry nacherally +seizes on Tutt an' Texas as parent an' uncle reespective." + +"Still there must have been some degree of sectional feeling among +you," I said, more by way of stirring my old cattleman up than any +nobler purpose; "coming some of you from the South, and others from +the North, it would have been strange indeed had it been otherwise." + +"Which it's shore strange, then. Them Wolfville pards of mine is one +an' all United States men. They ain't Southern men, nor No'thern men, +nor Eastern men, nor even Western men. Likewise, the improodent sport +who'd go trackin' 'round, ondertaikin' to designate 'em as sech, would +get toomultuous action, plenty soon and plenty of it. + +"Why, take Texas himse'f: Thar's a fly-by-night party pesterin' 'round +camp for a space, who lets on he's from the same neck of woods as +Texas. This yere annoyin' fraud is a heap proud of it, too, an' makes +a speshulty of bein' caught a lot in Texas' company. He figgers it +gives him a standin'. + +"One mornin', when only a few of us is pervadin' 'round, he plants +himse'f plumb comfortable an' important in a Red Light cha'r, an' +followin' the 'nitial drink for the day goes to talkin' with Texas. + +"As he sets thar, all fav'rable an' free, thar comes trackin' in a +aged Eastern gent, who's been negotiatin' with Armstrong about +business concernin' the Noo York store. The aged Eastern shorthorn +goes rockin' up to the counter, an' p'litely lets on to Black Jack +that he'll licker. As he does so this yere firegilt party who boasts +he's of the same range an' breed as Texas speaks up, sharp an' coarse, +like the bark of a dog: + +"'Yere, you! I wants a word or two with you-all!' + +"With that for a start he onfurls what he preetends is his grievances, +the same bein' because of somethin' the aged Eastern sport does or +don't do comin' over on Monte's stage--which they're fellow passengers +that time, it seems--an' next he cuts loose, an' goes to vitooperatin' +an' reecrim'natin', an' pilin' insult on epithet, that a-way, to beat +four of a kind. Which he certainly does give that aged Eastern person +a layin' out! Shore; he's jest showin' off at that, an' tryin' to +impress Texas. + +"At the beginnin' the aged Eastern gent stands like he's dazed, onable +to collect himse'f. However, he gets his mental feet onder him, an' +allowin' he won't stay none to listen to sech tirades, tucks away his +nosepaint an' pulls out. + +"After he's gone the vitooperative party wheels so's to face Texas, +an' says--mighty pleasant an' agree'ble, like the object of the +meetin's been most happ'ly accomplished: + +"'Thar, that shows you.' + +"'Whatever does it show?' Texas asks, some grim. + +"'Which it shows the difference between a No'thern gent an' a Southern +gent. To be shore, that old cimmaron ain't half my size an' is twict +my age, but all the same, Texas, if he's from the South, you bet, like +you an' me, he'd tore into me, win or lose, if he'd got killed!' + +"'You think so?' says Texas, his eyes becomin' as hard an' glitterin' +as a snake's. 'Now let me tell you something, my lionhearted friend. +Thar's brave men South, an' brave men No'th. Also, thar's quitters; +quitters at both ends of that No'thern-Southern trail who'll go into +the water like a mink. Accordin' to my experiences, an' I've been +dallyin' with hoomanity in the herd for quite some time, thar's +nothin' in that geographical bluff of yours at all. Moreover, I +reckons that before I'm through, seein' now you've got me goin', I'll +prove it. For a starter, then, takin' your say-so for it, you're a +Southern man?' + +"'Which that's shore c'rrect,' the other responds, but feeble; 'you +an' me, as I says former, is both Southern men.' + +"'_Bueno!_ Now as calk'lated to demonstrate how plumb onfounded is +them theeries of yours'--yere Texas gets up, an' kicks his cha'r back +so he's got room--'I has pleasure in informin' you that you're a +onmitigated hoss-thief;--an' you don't dare stand up. Yes, sir; you're +onfit to drink with a nigger or eat with a dog;--an' you'll set thar +an' take it.' + +"Which that aboosive party, pale as paper, certainly does 'set thar +an' take it' preecisely as Texas prophecies; an' after glowerin' at +him, red-eyed an' f'rocious for a moment, Texas sticks his paws in his +jeans, an' sa'nters off. + +"It's jest as well. Why, if that humbug so much as curls a lip or +crooks a finger, after Texas takes to enunciatin' them prop'sitions in +philosophy, Texas'd have tacked him to the table with his bowie an' +left him kickin', same as them goggled-eyed professors who calls +themselves nacheralists does some buzzin' fly with a pin. + +"'Which, if thar's anything,' Texas explains to Enright, 'that makes +me tired partic'lar, it's them cracks about No'th an' South. If I was +range boss for these yere United States I'd shore have them +deescriptives legislated into a cap'tal offence.' + +"'Sech observations as that narrow tarrapin onbosoms,' comments +Enright, 'only goes to show how shallow he is. Comin' down to the +turn, even that old Eastern shorthorn's walkin' away from him don't +necessar'ly mean a lack of sand. Folks does a heap of runnin' in this +vale of tears, but upon various an' varyin' argyooments. A gent runs +from a polecat, an' he runs from a b'ar; but the reason ain't the +same.' + +"Thar's no sectionalisms in Tutt's differences with Texas, none +whatever. Also, while it finds, as I holds, its roots in Annalinda an' +little Enright Peets, it don't arise from nothin' which them babies +does to one another. Two pups in the same basket, two birds on the +same bough, couldn't have got along more harmon'ous. The moment Nell +brings little Enright Peets over to see Annalinda them children falls +together like a shock of oats, an' at what times they're onhobbled of +fam'ly reestrictions an' footloose so to do, you'd see 'em playin' +'round from sun-up till dark, same as a pa'r of angels. + +"Troo, Annalinda does domineer over little Enright Peets, an' makes +him fetch an' carry an' wait on her; an' thar's times, too, when she +shore beats him up with a stick or quirt some lib'ral. But what else +would you expect? I even encounters little Enright Peets, down on +all-fours, an' Annalinda ridin' him like he's a hoss. Likewise, she's +kickin' his ribs a heap, to make him go faster. But that's nothin'; +them two babies is only playin'. + +"Not that I'm none so shore it ain't this yere last identical +spectacle which gives Nell the notion of them two children marryin' at +some footure day. That, however, is merest surmise, an' in a manner +onimportant. What I'd like to get proned into you-all is that Texas +an' Tutt lockin' horns like they does has its single cause in them +latent jealousies an' struggles for social preecedence, which is bound +to occur between a only father an' a only uncle wharever found. Which +the single safegyard lies in sech a multitoode of fathers an' uncles +as renders 'em common. To possess but one of each makes 'em puffed up +an' pride-blown, an' engenders a mootual uppishness which before all +is over is shore to man'fest itse'f in war. + +"Thar's one boast we-all is able to make, however. That clash between +Tutt an' Texas is the only shore-enough trouble which ever breaks out +among the boys. You onderstands, of course, that when I says 'boys' +that a-way, I alloodes to Enright an' Peets an' them others who +constitootes Wolfville's social an' commercial backbone. Thar's other +embroglios more or less smoky an' permiscus, which gets pulled off one +way an' another, but they ain't held to apply to us of rights. For +sech alien hookups, so to speak, we reefooses all reespons'bility. +Which we regyards them escapades as fortooitous, an' declines 'em +utter. Tutt's goin' against Texas is the only war-jig we feels to be +reely Wolfville's." + +"You forget," I said teasingly, "the shooting between Boggs and Tutt, +as incident to the Washerwoman's War." + +"Which, that?" There was impatience tinged with acrimony in the tones. +"That's nothin' more'n gallantry. It's what's to be looked for whar +thar's ladies about, an' is doo to a over-effervescence of sperit, +common to the younger males of our species when made gala an' giddy by +the alloorin' flutter of a petticoat. Boggs an' Tutt don't honestly +mean them bullets none. Also, if you-all is goin' to keep on with your +imbecile interruptions, I'll quit." + +Abject apologies on my part, supported by equally abject promises of +reform. + +The old gentleman, thus mollified, resumed: + +"Goin' back to this yere Tutt-Texas collision, thar's no denyin', an' +be fa'r about it, but what Tutt has grounds. For goin' on five years +he's been looked up to as the only father in camp, an' for Texas to +appear at what you-all might call the 'leventh hour an' go crowdin' +disdainfully into the picture on nothin' more'n bein' a uncle, is +preepost'rous. To prance 'round on sech a meager showin', puttin' on +the dog he does, an' all in a somber, overbearin' way like he's +packin' the world on his shoulders an' we-all's got to be a heap +careful not to do nothin' to him to make him drop it, is inexcoosable +to the verge of outrage. No rel'tive in the third or fo'th degree is +jestified to assoome sech sooperiorities; an' Enright tells Texas so +after Peets digs the lead out of the thick of his laig. + +"Which we gets orig'nal notice about Annalinda, when a passel of us, +as is our custom followin' first drink time in the evenin', drifts +into the post office. Some gets letters, some don't; an' Texas, who, +as a roole, don't have no voloominous correspondence, is sayin' that +he has the same feelin' about letters he has about trant'lers, as +bein' a heap more likely to sting you than anything else, when the +postmaster shoves him out one. + +"It's from Laredo, an' when Texas gets a glimpse at the mark on it he +lets it fall onopened to the floor. + +"'It's my former wife!' he says, with a shudder. 'Yere she is, +startin' in to get the upper hand of me ag'in.' + +"'Nonsense!' says Peets, pickin' up the letter, 'it's from some +lawyers. Can't you see their names yere up in the corner?' + +"'That don't mean nothin',' Texas whispers--he's shore a heap shook; +'it'd be about her speed, as she goes plottin' afresh to ondermine me +in my present peace, to rope up a law-wolf to show her how.' + +"Bein' urged by Peets, an' the balance of us asshorin' him we'll stand +pat in his destinies come what may an' defend him to the bitter +finish, Texas manages to open the envelope. As he stands thar readin' +the scare in his face begins to fade in favor of a look of gloom. + +"'Gents,' he says, at last, 'it's my brother Ed. He's cashed in.' We +expresses the reg'lation reegrets, an' Texas continyoos: 'Ed leaves me +his baby girl, Annalinda--she's my niece.' After a pause he adds: +'This yere shore requires consideration.' + +"'These law sharps,' explains Texas, when we're organized all sociable +in the Red Light, an' Black Jack's come through on right an' reg'lar +lines, 'allows it's Ed's dyin' reequest that I take an' ride paternal +herd on this infant child.' + +"'But how about its mother?' urges Enright. + +"'Which it ain't got none. Its mother dies two years ago. Now Ed's +packed in, that baby's been whipsawed; it's a full-fledged orphan, +goin' an' comin'.' + +"'Ain't thar no rel'tives on the mother's side?' asks Nell, from over +back of Cherokee's lay out. + +"'Meanest folks, Nellie,' says Texas, 'bar none, between the Colorado +an' the Mississippi. You see they're kin to my Laredo wife, me an' Ed +both marryin' into the same tribe. Which it shows the Thompson +intell'gence. Thar ain't a Thompson yet who don't need a guardeen +constant.' + +"After no end of discussion that a-way it's onderstood to be the +gen'ral notion that Texas ought to bring Ed's orphan baby to +Wolfville. + +"'But s'ppose,' says Texas, 'that in spite of Ed wantin' me to cast my +protectin' pinions over this yere infant, its mother's outfit, +thinkin' mebby to shake me down for some _dinero_, objects?' + +"'In which case,' says Boggs, who's plumb interested, 'you sends for +me, Texas, an' we mavericks it. You ain't goin' to let no sech callous +an' onfeelin' gang as your wife's folks go 'round dictatin' about Ed's +Annalinda child, be you, an' givin' you a stand-off? Which you're +only tryin' to execoote Ed's dying behests.' + +"It's settled final that Texas, ag'inst whatever opp'sition, has got +to bring on Annalinda to us. That disposed of, it next comes +nacherally up as a question how, when we gets Annalinda safe to +Wolfville, she's goin' to be took care of. + +"'Which the O. K. Restauraw won't do,' Texas says, lookin' anxious out +of the tail of his eye at Enright an' Peets. 'Mind, I ain't hintin' +nothin' ag'inst Missis Rucker, who hasn't got her Southwest equal at +flapjacks, but I submits that for a plastic child that a-way, at a +time when it receives impressions easy, to daily witness the way she +maltreats Rucker, is to go givin' that infant wrong idees of what's +coming to husbands as a whole. I'm a hard man, gents; but I don't aim +to bring up this yere Annalinda baby so that one day she's encouraged +to go handin' out the racket to some onforchoonate sport, which my +Laredo wife hands me.' + +"'Thar's reasons other than Missis Rucker,' Enright is quick to +observe, 'why the O. K. House ain't the fittest place for infancy, +an' any discussion of our esteemable hostess in them marital +attitoodes of hers is sooperfluous. S'ppose we lets it go, without +elab'ration, that the O. K. House, from nursery standp'ints, won't +do.' + +"Cherokee thinks that mighty likely a good way'd be to have Annalinda +live with Tutt an' Tucson Jennie. + +"Peets shakes his sagacious head. + +"'Dave'll onderstand my p'sition to be purely scientific,' he says, +glancin' across at Tutt, 'when I states that sech a move'd be a error. +Tucson Jennie, as wife an' mother, is as fine as silk. But she's also +a female woman, an' owns a papoose of her own. Thar's inborn reasons +why woman, as sech, while sympathetic an' gen'rally speakin' plumb +lovely, is oncapable onder certain circumstances of a squar' deal. In +this yere business of babies, for example, thar's existed throughout +the ages a onbridgable gulf in her eyes between her offspring an' +other folks' offspring; an' while disclaiming all disloyalty to Tucson +Jennie, I'm obleeged to say that as between Annalinda an' little +Enright Peets, she wouldn't be cap'ble of a even break. Do I +overstate the trooth, Dave?' + +"'None whatever,' Tutt returns. 'What you discovers scientific, Doc, I +learns more painfully as husband an' father. I fully agrees that when +it comes to other folks' children no female mother can hold the +onbiased scales.' + +"'Thar's French an' his wife?' chirps Nell, her elbow on the lay-out, +an' her little round chin in her fist; 'thar's the Frenches, over to +the corrals? French an' Benson Annie ain't got no children, an' they'd +be pleased to death at havin' Annalinda.' + +"'But be they competent?' asks Texas, over whom a feelin' of +se'f-importance is already beginnin' to creep like ivy on a wall. 'I +don't want to be considered a carper, but as I sees it I'd be doin' +less'n my dooty as a uncle if I fails to ask, Be them Frenches +competent?' + +"'You'll have to rope up a nurse some'ers, anyhow, Texas,' Boggs puts +in. 'Thar's dozens of them good-nachered fat young senoritas among the +Mexicans who'll do. The nurse would know her business, even if the +Frenches don't.' + +"'Two nurses,' declar's Tutt. 'Bein' a father, I savvys the nurse +game from start to finish. You'll need two; one to hold it, an' one to +fetch it things.' + +"'But about them Frenches?' inquires Jack Moore. 'Ain't we goin' a +little fast? Mebby they themselves has objections.' + +"'Which they'd look mighty well,' observes Cherokee, riflin' the deck +an' snappin' it into the box plenty vicious, 'to go 'round objectin' +after Nellie yere's done put 'em in nom'nation for this trust.' + +"'Not that they'd reeject it haughty,' explains Moore; 'but, as Texas +himse'f says, who's to know, they bein' mighty modest people, that +they'll regyard themselves as comp'tent? The Frenches ain't had no +practice, an' thar's nothin' easier than a misdeal about a youngone. +Thar's a brainless mother saws her baby off on me over in Prescott one +day, while she goes cavortin' into a store to buy a frock, an' you-all +can go put a bet on it I'm raisin' the he'pless long yell inside of +the first minute. This takin' charge of babies ain't no sech pushover +as it looks. It's certainly no work for amatoors.' + +"'Thar's nothin' in them doubts, Jack,' Boggs chips in confidently. +'Even if them Frenches ain't had no practice, an' the nurses should +fall down, thar's dozens of us who'll be ever at the elbow of that +household; an' if in their ignorance they takes to bunglin' the play +we'll be down on 'em in the cockin' of a winchester to give 'em the +proper steer.' + +"'I reckon, Nellie,' says Texas, lookin' wistful across at Nell, +'that if some of the boys yere'll stand your watch as lookout, +you'd put in a day layin' in a outfit of duds? You could be doin' +it, you know, while I'm down in Laredo, treating with them hostiles +for possession.' + +"'Shore,' an' Nellie smiles at the prospect. 'Which I'll jest go +stampedin' over to Tucson for 'em, too. How old is Annalinda?' + +"Texas gives Annalinda's age as three. + +"'She'll be four next fall,' says he; 'I remembers Ed writes me she's +born durin' the beef round-up.' + +"'In that case,' comments Enright, 'she ought to stand about eight +hands high. In clawin' together said raiment, Nellie, that'll give you +some impression of size.' + +"'An', Nellie,' continyoos Texas, 'my idee is you'll want to change +in say a thousand dollars?' + +"'Why, Texas, you talk like you're locoed. One hundred'll win out all +the clothes she could sp'ile, w'ar or t'ar to pieces in a year.' + +"'Shore,' coincides Tutt; 'take little Enright Peets. One hundred +_pesos_ leaves him lookin' like a circus.' + +"'But Annalinda,' objects Texas doubtfully, 'is a She. It costs more +for girls. That Laredo wife of mine'd blow in the price of sixty head +of cattle, an' then allow she ain't half dressed.' + +"'One hundred'll turn the trick,' Nell insists. + +"All that night we sets up discussin' an' considerin'. The more we +talks the better we likes that Annalinda idee. + +"At sun-up, b'arin' the best wishes of all, Texas cinches a hull into +his quickest pony, an' hits the trail for Tucson to take the railroad +kyars for Laredo. + +"'Which, onless they gives me more of a battle than I anticipates,' he +remarks, as he pushes his feet into the stirrup, 'I'll be back by ten +days.' + +"'An', Texas,' says Boggs, detainin' him by the bridle rein, 'you-all +beat it into that baby that I'm her Uncle Dan. It'll give you +something to do comin' back.' + +"'Which, jedgin' from what I goes through that day in Prescott,' +remarks Moore, mighty cynical, 'Texas'll have plenty to do.' + +"Texas don't meet up with no partic'lar Laredo opposition, them +relatives appearin' almost eager to give him Annalinda. One of 'em +even goes the insultin' len'th of offerin' to split the expense, but +withdraws his bluff when Texas threatens to brain him with a +six-shooter. + +"Boggs, hearin' of this Laredo willin'ness, can't onderstand it no +how. + +"'It's too many for me,' he says. 'If it's me, now, I'd have clung to +that blessed baby till the cows come home. They must shore be +deeficient in taste, them Laredo yahoos!' + +"As exhibitin' how soon bein' moved into cel'bration as a uncle begins +to tell on Texas he ups an' in the fullness of his vanity deecides, +even before he arrives at Laredo, ag'inst the scheme which the camp's +half laid out about the Frenches an' Annalinda, an' arranges to have +a 'doby of his own. It's a blow to the Frenches, too, for since we +notifies 'em, they has set their hearts on the racket. + +"But Texas is immov'ble. + +"'Ed's dyin',' says he, 'an' namin' me to be reespons'ble for +Annalinda, creates a sityooation best met by me havin' a wickeyup of +my own. I'm sorry to disapp'int, but after matoore reeflection, that +a-way, I've conclooded to play a lone hand.' + +"While he's away Texas goes projectin' 'round an' cuts out a couple of +old black mammies from a day nursery over in Dallas, an' brings 'em +along. They an' Annalinda rides over from Tucson in the stage; but, +bein' more familiar with the saddle, an' because he's better able +tharfrom to soopervise an' go dictatin' terms to Monte, he himse'f +comes on his pony. + +"'An', gents,' whines Monte, as, throwin' down the reins, he heads for +the Red Light bar, 'between us he ain't the same Texas. That +Annalinda child has shore changed him turrible. All the way from +Tucson, when he ain't crowdin' up to the wheel to give orders to them +Senegambians about how to hold or when to feed her, he's menacin' at +me. That's why I'm three hours late. At rough places it looks like +thar ain't no name mean enough for him to call me; an' once, when +the front wheel jolts into a chuckhole an' Annalinda sets up a +squall, he pulls a gun an' threatens in the most frenzied way to shoot +me up. "You be more careful," he roars, "or I'll blow you plumb off +your perch! Childhood, that a-way, is a fragile flower; an' if you +figgers I'll set yere an', in the tender instance of my own pers'nal +niece, see some booze-besotted drunkard break that flower short off +at the stalk, I'll fool you up a whole lot." An' do you-all know,' +Monte concloodes, almost with a sob, 'he never does let down the +hammer of his .45 ag'in for most a mile.' + +"Annalinda is plumb pretty. The whole camp goes her way like a +landslide. Tucson Jennie approves of her--with reeservations, of +course, in favor of little Enright Peets; Missis Rucker finds time to +snatch a few moments, between feedin' us an' bossin' Rucker, to go see +her every day; while, as for Nell, she's in an' out of Texas' 'doby +mornin', noon an' night to sech extents that half the time Cherokee +ain't got no lookout, an' when he has it's Boggs. + +[Illustration: "HIM AN' ANNALINDA SHORE DO CONSTITOOTE A PICTURE. 'THAR'S +A PA'R TO DRAW TO,' SAYS NELL TO TEXAS, HER EYES LIKE BROWN DIAMONDS." +p. 281.] + +"Nell brings over little Enright Peets, an' thar's no backin' away +from it him an' Annalinda shore do constitoote a picture. + +"'Thar's a pa'r to draw to!' says Nell to Texas, her eyes like +diamonds. + +"Bein' romantic, like all girls, an' full of fancies that a-way, Nell +indulges in playful specyoolations about Annalinda an' little Enright +Peets gettin' married later on. Not that she intends anything, +although Texas takes it plenty serious, which shows how his egotism is +already workin' overtime. + +"When Monte puts up them groans about how Texas is changed, we-all +lays it to the complainin' habit which, on account of whiskey mebby, +has got to be second nacher with him. He's always kickin' about +something; an' so, nacherally, when he onbosoms himse'f of that howl +about Texas, we don't pay no speshul heed. It ain't three days, +however, before it begins to break on us that for once Monte's right. +Texas has certainly changed. Thar's a sooperior manner, what you'd +call a loftiness, about him, which is hard to onderstand an' harder +to put up with. It gets to be his habit constant to reemark in a +wearied way, as he slops out his drinks, that we-all'll have to +excoose him talkin' to us much, because he's got cares on his mind, +besides bein' played out on account of settin' up all night with +Annalinda. + +"'Which she's sheddin' her milk teeth,' he'd say, 'an' it makes her +petyoolant.' + +"After which he'd turn away in dignified tol'ration, same as if we're +too low an' dull to a'preeciate what he has to b'ar. + +"Or, ag'in--an' always before the draw--he'd throw down his hand in a +poker game, an' scramble to his feet, sayin': + +"'Heavens! I forgets about that Annalinda child!' + +"An' with that he'd go skallyhootin' off into space, leavin' us +planted thar with a misdeal on our hands, an' each one of us holdin' +mebby better than aces-up, an' feelin' shore we could have filled. +It's nothin' less'n awful the way he acts; an' that we lets him get +away with it exhibits them sentiments of Christian charity which +permeates our breasts. + +"Thar's the way, too, he goes hectorin' at Boggs! Two occasions in +partic'lar I reecalls; an' it's only Boggs' forbearance that +hostil'ties don't ensoo. One time when Annalinda's out for a walk with +her two old black mammies Boggs crosses up with the outfit an' kisses +Annalinda. Wharupon Texas yells out from across the street, like he's +been bit by a rattlesnake: + +"'Don't do that, Dan! You'll mebby give her something. In Mother +Shrewsbury's "What Ails Babies and Why" it's laid down emphatic that +you mustn't kiss 'em.' + +"'But you kisses her,' retorts Boggs. + +"'Me? But I'm her uncle. Besides, I only kisses her hands. Which I'll +permit you-all to kiss her hands, Dan, if that'll do you. Only don't +you go to overplay it none. Don't forget that hands is the limit, an' +it's thar whar you gets off.' + +"'Which I ain't none shore,' says Boggs, who's some hurt, as he's +talkin' the thing over with Enright an' Cherokee in the Red +Light--'which I ain't none shore but Texas is right; only he oughtn't +to throw out them rooles of health of his so plumb offensive. You'd +have reckoned from the row he makes I'm eatin' Annalinda.' + +"Another time Boggs gives Annalinda his six-shooter to play with, she +havin' deemanded it with screams. Texas comes steamin' up. + +"'Dan,' he cries, grabbin' the weepon from Annalinda, 'sometimes I +asks myse'f in all ser'ousness be you got common sense! Is this yere a +snare you're settin' for this innocent child? Do you-all want her to +blow her head plumb off?' + +"'But, Texas,' Boggs expostyoolates, 'thar ain't a chance. How's +she goin' to cock that gun, an' the mainspring fifteen pounds +resistance?' + +"'But she might drop it.' + +"'Which, if she does, it can't go off none; I sets the hammer between +two shells on purpose.' + +"'Whoever's bringin' up this yere baby, you or me?' Texas deemands, as +he tosses Boggs his gun. 'Please don't pass her no more artillery. If +it's got to whar her existence is goin' to be a failure onless she's +foolin' with a gun, I as her uncle preefers to furnish said hardware +myse'f.' + +"Shore, Boggs stands it, it's so evident Texas is onhinged. + +"'An' if you look at it straight it ain't no wonder, neither,' says +Boggs, who's mighty forgivin' that a-way. 'It's apples to ashes if you +was to suddenly up an' enrich any of us with a niece like Annalinda, +we-all in goin' crazy over her 'd give Texas kyards an' spades.' + +"Texas, who's always readin' medicine books, likes to go bulgin' +'round eloocidatin' about measles an' scarlet fever an' whoopin' +cough, an' what other maladies is allers layin' in wait to bushwhack +infancy. At sech moments he's plenty speecious an' foxy, so's to trap +us into deebates with him. Mebby it'll be about the mumps, an' what's +to be done; an' then, after he gets us goin', he'll r'ar back the +actchooal image of insult an' floor us with 'Mother Shrewsbury.' It +ain't no overstatin' a sityooation to say he pursoos these yere +tactics ontil he's the admitted pest of the camp, an' thar ain't one +of us but would sooner see a passel of Apaches comin' than him. He +can't confab two minutes about Annalinda but he grows so insultin' you +simply has to hold onto your manhood by the scruff of the neck not to +go for him. + +"Even Enright ain't exempt. It comes out casyooally one evenin', as +Texas goes layin' down the law about how he's r'arin' Annalinda, that +Enright's mother was wont to sooth an' engage his infantile hours with +a sugar-rag an' a string of spools. Which you should have shore seen +Texas look at him! Not with reespect, mind you; not like he's heard +anything worth while or interestin'. But like he's sayin' to himse'f, +'An' you sets thar offerin' yourse'f as a argyooment in favor of +sugar-rags an' strings of spools! On the back of sech a warnin' you +don't figger none I'll go givin' sugar-rags an' strings of spools to +Annalinda, do you?' While he's thinkin' this he grins that patronizin' +it'd set your teeth on edge. + +"Texas in a simple sperit of vain-glory'd take advantage of Tutt bein' +a father that a-way to back him into a corner; an' then, ignorin' the +rest of us as belongin' to the barb'rous herd, he'd insist on +discussin' skunk oil as a remedy for croup. An' the worst of it is he +finally has Tutt, who's bad enough before, gyratin' 'round, his addled +nose to the sky in redoubled scorn of childless men. From the two +sociablest sports in camp it gets so that the uncle in one an' father +in the other so far supplants an' shoves aside the mere man in 'em +that Job himse'f would have had to make a new record for meekness an' +long sufferin' to get along with 'em. Which we-all suffers from both +to that extent that when they does start to bombardin' each other the +eepisode in some of its angles appeals to us as a welcome relief. + +"Even Peets goes after Texas. It don't do no good. He's become that +opinionated he ain't got no more reespect for Peets than for Monte. +Texas mentions that Annalinda's got a ache some'ers, an' asks Peets +what's his idee. + +"'Thar's nothin' onder the firmament, Texas, the matter with that +baby,' says Peets, 'but you. Which if you'd ever got to him as a +yearlin' you'd a-killed Hercules himse'f! Quit yore fussin', an' give +Annalinda a chance. Take a lesson from the cub coyote. Roll Annalinda +out in the sand, an' let her scuffle. That's the way to bring a +youngone up.' + +"'Mother Shrewsbury don't agree with you,' says Texas. 'Also, thar's +nothin' in them cub coyote claims of yours for r'arin' children.' + +"'Mother Shrewsbury,' retorts Peets, 'is nothin' but a patent med'cine +outfit, which feeds an' fattens on sech boneheads as you.' + +"'Excoose me, but scattered throughout that invalyooable work is the +endorsements of doctors of divinity.' + +"'Shore! Half the time a gold brick comes to you wrapped in a tract. +All the same, Texas, the way you're carryin' on about Annalinda is +fast bringin' your sanity into doubt.' + +"Texas snorts his scorn at this, an' goes back to 'Mother Shrewsbury.' + +"As I've already s'ggested, however, thar's a bitter drop in Texas' +cup, an' Tutt's the drop. As a ondeniable father, Tutt can put it all +over Texas or any other mere uncle whenever he feels like it, an' deep +down in his heart Texas knows it. He struggles to hide the feelin', +but any one can tell that the very sight of Tutt is wormwood to him. + +"Likewise, Tutt fully ree'lizes his sooperiority, an' in no wise +conceals the same. It comes as easy to Tutt as suckin' aiggs, he +havin' had plenty of practice. Ever since little Enright Peets is +born Tutt has conducted himse'f in a downhill manner towards all of +us, an' been allowed to do so; as why not? This manner has become so +much a part of Tutt that even after Texas inherits Annalinda an' sets +up house for himse'f, while it makes the rest of us look up to him +some, it don't he'p him none with Tutt. Tutt's too thoroughly aware of +the difference between bein' a father an' bein' a uncle. Likewise, he +lets Texas see it at every twist in the trail. + +"That time Nell takes to pa'rin' off little Enright Peets an' +Annalinda, an' in a sperit of lightness speaks of how mebby some day +they'll wed, she springs the notion on Texas, as stated, an' asks him +what he thinks. Texas, who always has to have time to make up his mind +about anything with Annalinda in it, is onable to say, first dash out +of the box, whether he feels tickled or sore. He grows plenty solemn, +as I mentions, grunts mighty elevated an' austere, an' mumbles about +some things bein' a long shot an' a limb in the way, an' the wisdom of +not crossin' a bridge till you gets to it. + +"Ten minutes later, while he's still got Annalinda an' little Enright +Peets on the skyline of his regyard, Texas comes upon Tutt, who's +talkin' pol'tics to Armstrong. Armstrong has tossed off a few +weak-minded opinions about a deefensive an' offensive deal with +Russia, an' Tutt's ag'in it as solid as a sod house. + +"'Yes, sir,' Tutt's saying; 'I'm ag'in any sech low alliance. I'd be +ashamed to call myse'f a white man an' consent to sech open-eyed +disgrace.' + +"Texas turns white. It's among his deefects that he can't escape the +feelin' that the whole world is always thinkin' an' talkin' about +whatever he himse'f is thinkin' an' talkin' about. Overhearin' what +Tutt says, he concloodes that Tutt's declarin' his sent'ments as to +little Enright Peets marryin' Annalinda, an' is out to reeject all +sech alliances as a disgrace to the Tutts. An' Texas foomes. To be eat +up by Tutt's sooperior station as a shore father is bad enough! An' +now yere's Tutt, aggravatin' injury with insult! Which it's too much! + +"'Draw your weepon, Dave,' calls out Texas, bringin' his own gun to +the front. 'Your bein' a father don't overawe me none, you bet! +Likewise, if you're a Tutt I'm a Thompson, an' I've stood about all +I'm going to.' + +"Tutt, as a old experienced gun-player, sees at a glance that he ain't +got no time to throw out skirmishers. For reasons onknown, but +s'fficient, thar's Texas manooverin' to plug him. Wharupon, Tutt takes +steps accordin', an' takes 'em some abrupt. So abrupt, in trooth, that +Texas ain't got through oratin' before his nigh hind laig has stopped +a bullet midway above the knee. Shore, he gets a shot at Tutt, but it +goes skutterin' along in the sand a full foot to one side. Thar's only +them two shots, Enright, Armstrong an' Jack Moore gettin' in between +'em, an' nippin' any further trouble in the bud. + +"It's two hours later, an' Enright has come 'round to beat some sense +into Texas. + +"'Accordin' to the Doc yere,' says Enright, as Peets ladles the +invalid out a hooker of Old Jordan, 'that laig'll be so you can ride +ag'in in a month. Pendin' which, while I don't preetend to savvy +what's been goin' on between you an' Dave, nor what insults has been +give or took, I no less tells you, Texas, that you're wrong.' + +"'As how?' growls Texas, gulpin' down the nosepaint. + +"'As to them airs which of late you dons. You know you can't defend +'em none. Dave's been the sole onchallenged father in this yere outfit +for crowdin' nigh five years; an' for you to come swaggerin' up, +insistin' that he divide the pot with you an' you holdin' nothin' +higher than a niece, nacherally exasperates him beyond endoorance. +Which you'd feel the same yourse'f in Dave's place.' + +"'But you don't onderstand, Sam. It's him connivin' round an' archin' +his neck ag'inst them babies marryin' each other when they're growed +up--it's that which sets my blood to b'ilin'. Wharever does Dave come +in to get insultin' action at sech a prop'sition? It'll be a cold day +when a Thompson ain't equal to a Tutt, an' I'll make that good while I +can pull an' p'int a .45.' + +"'Which Dave,' interjecks Peets, as he goes cockin' up Texas' foot on +a gooseha'r pillow, so's the shot laig'll feel it less--'which Dave +thinks right now, an' so informs me personal, that you-all starts to +mussin' with him on account of pol'tics, an' him havin' been a +reepublican back East. Armstrong b'ars him out, too.' + +"'Pol'tics?' gasps Texas, full of wonder. 'Whatever do I care about +pol'tics? I shore ain't no nigger-lovin' reepublican. At the same +time, I ain't no cheap hoss-thief of a democrat, neither, even if I +does come from Texas. Why, Doc, takin' jedge an' opposin' counsel an' +the clerk who records the decree, on down to that ornery auctioneer of +a sheriff who sells up my stock at public vandoo for costs an' al'mony +the time my Laredo wife grabs off her divorce, every stick-up among +'em's a democrat. An' while I don't know nothin' about pol'tics, an' +never aims to, you can go the limit on it I ain't nothin' them bandits +be. Which I'd sooner be a prohibitionist!' + +"Enright an' Peets an' Texas keeps on discussin' ontil the +misonderstandin' is laid bar', an' Texas is quick to admit that he's +been mistook. Tutt, who's willin' an' ready, is brought in, an' the +pa'r reeconciled. + +"'An', old man,' says Tutt, usin' both hands to shake with Texas, 'I'd +on the level feel a heap better if it's me who gets busted in the +laig.' + +"'Don't mention it, Dave,' returns Texas, who, now he reelizes what +he's done, is deeply affected. 'I was plumb wrong; I sees it now. +Also, if in the fullness of time Annalinda declar's in favor of +weddin' little Enright Peets, I yereby binds myse'f to back them +nuptials for a thousand head of steers.' + +"'Texas,' an' the water stands in Tutt's eyes, 'while it's the first I +hears of sech a racket, yere's my hand that I'll go with you, steer +for steer an' hoof for hoof.' + +"What Peets calls 'the logic of the sityooation' p'ints to licker all +around; an', as we-all drinks to the onclouded future of Annalinda an' +little Enright Peets, Texas an' Tutt ag'in shakes mighty fervent for +the second time." + + + + +XI + +THE FUNERAL OF OLD HOLT + + +"That Turner person! Does he remain in Wolfville long?" The old +cattleman repeated my question as though feeling for its bearings. +"Well, he don't break no records. Which I should say now he sojourns +with us mebby it's six months before he ups stakes an' pulls his +freight back East. Oh, no; it ain't that any gent who's licensed to +call himse'f a molder of public opinion, sech as Enright or Peets, +objects to the Turner person's further presence none. Speakin' +gen'ral, the heft of feelin' is in his favor. Not but what he has +deeficiencies. It's no easy shot, offhand, to tell you preecisely whar +this Turner person is camped in common esteem. Perhaps it's enough to +say he's one of them parties who, while they don't excite your +disapproval, is shore to keep you loaded with regrets. + +"Ain't you met up frequent with that form of horned toad? Thar's +nothin' you can lodge ag'inst 'em, nothin' at which a vig'lance +committee can rope an' fasten; they're honest, well meanin', even +gen'rous; an' yet thar they be, upholstered by nacher in some occult +way with about the same chance of bein' pop'lar as a wet dog. Speakin' +for myse'f, I feels sorry for these yere onforchoonate mavericks, +condemned as they be at birth to go pirootin' from the cradle to the +grave, meetin' everywhar about the same welcome which awaits a polecat +at a picnic. + +"Thar's no predom'natin' element of evil in this Turner person. Which +in his case the trouble swings an' rattles on the way he's built. His +crownin' deefect, mighty likely, is that he's got one of them sidehill +minds, an' what idees he does evolve can't find no foothold, but is +robbed at the start of everything reesemblin' perm'nancy. I watches +his comin's in an' goin's out for months on eend, an' I'm yere to +say--at the same time ascribin' to him no ill intentions--that onder +all condition an' on all o'casions he's as onreli'ble as a woman's +watch. + +"About that weddin' he goes east to consummate? + +"Which it looks like, speakin' mod'rate, he quits winner. He travels +back to Sni-a-bar as tame as tabby cats in persooance with Enright's +commands, an', once thar, old man Parks an' the rest of 'em whistles +him through the marital chute a heap successful. When he shows up +among us, his blushin' Peggy bride on his arm, he's wearin' all the +brands an' y'ear marks of a thor'ughly married man; to sech degrees, +indeed, as renders Texas oncomfortable. + +"'It recalls,' says Texas, 'them honeymoon days I passed with my +Laredo wife before she wins out that divorce. It's like a icicle +through my heart to look at him,' he goes on, aloodin' to the Turner +person an' the fatyoous fog of deelight he's evident in. 'Thar he is, +like a cub b'ar, his troubles all before him, an' not brains enough +onder his skelp-lock to a'preeciate his awful p'sition.' + +"'Why, Texas,' remonstrates Nell as, the turn comin' trey-nine, she +picks a stack of bloos off the trey an' puts it in the check rack, +'you talks of wedlock as though that sacriment's a brace. Plenty of +folks has beat the game. Thar's Tutt an' Tucson Jennie.' + +"'Them nuptials of Dave's an' Jennie's, Nell,' returns Texas, shakin' +his head a heap gloomy, 'ain't far enough to the r'ar to afford a +preecedent. Wait till Dave wakes up.' + +"'Till Dave wakes up?' says Boggs, who's busy at the lay-out, an' has +jest planted a stack of reds coppered in the big squar'. 'Sech +pess'mism, Texas, is reedic'lous. Bein' married that a-way, I takes +it, is somethin' like walkin' a tightrope. It reequires care, but it +can be did. To be shore, if anything happens, you're in for a +jo-darter of a jolt. Still, the resk don't render the feat imposs'ble, +an' a brave man disregyards it.' + +"'That's whatever,' comments Nell, as, the king fallin' to win, she +draws down Boggs's reds. + +"Thar's no chill on the reception we confers on the Turner person an' +his Peggy bride. Monte has orders, in case they're aboard, to onlimber +his shotgun a mile or two outside of camp, so's we gets notice an' is +not caught off our gyard. For once the old drunkard is faithful to his +trust, an' when we hears him whangin' away with both bar'ls, we turns +out, as they say in Noo York, _en masse_. Every gent empties the six +chambers of his gun as the stage pulls up, an' the Turner person +he'ps out his Peggy bride into the center of a most joyful foosilade. +We couldn't have done more if she's the Queen of Sheba. + +"The Turner person an' his Peggy bride is in right from the go. Missis +Rucker declar's that the bride's a lady; Nell proclaims her as 'shore +corn-fed,' while Tucson Jennie allows she's a whole lot too good for +sech a jack-rabbit of a husband as she gets. + +"Her beauty? + +"Which you couldn't say it's calc'lated to blind. + +"For mere loveliness she ain't a marker to Nell. To be frank, it's +somethin' more'n a simple question that a-way if she splits even with +Tucson Jennie. As for Missis Rucker, that matron bein' past her yooth +ain't properly speakin' in the runnin', an' to go comparin' her with +girls would be injestice. + +"Once landed, an' havin' escaped from that ovation we prepar's, the +Turner person an' his Peggy bride moves into the wickeyup okyoopied +former by Cash Box Billie an' Missis Bill, an' opens up their domestic +game. Hearin' nothin' to the contrary, no howls of anguish from him, +no yelps of complaint from her, it's safe to say that in what joys is +supposed to attend the connoobyal state, they coppers all of them +loogubrious forebodin's of Texas, an' gets at least as good as a even +break. + +"Old man Parks back at Sni-a-bar? + +"It looks like the Turner person, him bein' nacherally timid, +exaggerates the perils which lurks in that aged cimmaron. Leastwise, +old Parks don't offer no voylance to him, neither at the weddin' nor +later. Some waifword does come creepin' along that durin' the cer'mony +two of the guests has to hold old Parks, an' that he's searched for +weepons by the preacher before ever said divine consents to turn his +game at all. Which I'm free to say, however, I never lends no +creedence to them yarns. + +"The Turner person, now he's established as a married gent an' a +cit'zen in full standin', gives himse'f horn an' hide to business that +a-way. He's as prompt about openin' his coffin emporium as ever is +Black Jack in throwin' wide the portals of the Red Light. Once thar, +he stays ontil the evenin' lamps is lit, layin' for a corpse to use +his new hearse on. + +"Also, the Turner person has hopes: an' equally also he ain't without +foundations wharon to build. That's an uncle of Armstrong who has come +totterin' into camp, as he says himse'f, to die. Likewise, it's the +onbiased view of every gent in the outfit that this reelative of +Armstrong possesses reasons. He's a walkin' wreck. Peets concedes that +he's got every malady ever heard of, besides sev'ral as to which +science is plumb in the dark. + +"Nacherally, not alone the Turner person, but the public at large, +figgers that this yere uncle'll shore furnish employment for the +hearse, an' at no distant day. But it looks like that onmitigated +invalid is out to test our patience. Mornin' after mornin' he comes +scufflin' into the Red Light on two canes to get his matootinal +nosepaint, an' this he keeps up ontil it begins to look like malice. +Ree'lizin', too, the pecooliar int'rest we-all is bound to take in him +onder the circumstances, he puts on airs, an' goes by us when he meets +us as coldly haughty as a paycar by a tramp. Or, ag'in, he's prone to +grin at us plenty peevish an' malev'lent, an' this he does partic'lar +if the Turner person's hoverin' round. + +"'Which I shore deespises to keep you boys waitin',' he'd say, with a +cacklin', aggravatin' laugh; 'but the way I feels it'd be prematoore +to go greasin' up the hubs of that hearse.' + +"Sech taunts he flings forth constant, ontil he comes mighty near +drivin' Boggs frantic. + +"'It seems,' says Boggs, 'like simply livin' ain't good enough for +that old hoss thief. To be wholly happy he's obleeged to make his stay +on earth a source of mis'ry to other folks. Which he ought to've been +in his tomb ten years ago. Every day he draws his breath is so much +velvet; an', instead of bein' thankful, all he thinks of is makin' +mean reemarks an' sayin' bitin' things. He'll keep on till some +over-provoked sport bends a six-shooter on his insultin' head.' + +"Weeks of waitin' goes by. Armstrong's old badger of a uncle hangs on, +an' no outside corpse falls in, Arizona, as you doubtless savvys, +bein' scand'lously healthy that a-way. So far, too, from any el'g'ble +subject arrivin' in the usual way, the town never experiences sech a +period of rippleless an' onruffled peace. As showin', too, how far the +public is willin' to go to he'p along the play, I need only mention +that on two o'casions Boggs leaves out his best pony all night, +himse'f sprawled in behind a mesquite bush with his winchester, hopin' +some Mexican'll prove weak enough to want it. All is in vain, however. +Thar we be, framed up to give a fooneral from which Cochise County +could date time, an' nothin' in the line of raw mater'al wharwith to +pull it off. Which I never sees the gen'ral feelin' more exasperated. +It's as though in a sperit of sarcasm our destinies is mockin' us. + +"The Turner person, in the face of this yere disheartenin' idleness, +takes refooge in a trottin' hoss, which form of equine is as strange +to us as camelopards. Shore, we has our runnin' races, pony ag'inst +pony, a quarter of a mile dash; but that's as far as we goes. + +"The Turner person says that for himse'f he prefers trottin' races, +an' after seein' him ride once I shore quits marvellin' at that +pref'rence. You could no more keep him on a pony than you could keep +him on a red-hot stove. We ties a roll of blankets across the horn of +the saddle, an' organizes him with buckin' straps besides, an' in the +face of all them safegyards he rolls off that hoss same as you'd +expect some chambermaid to do. + +"Accordin' to the Turner person, trottin' races is the sport of kings, +an' actin' on this feelin' he sends back East for a hoss. He drives it +in one evenin' behind the stage, an' we-all goes over to the corral to +size it up. It's consid'rable of a hoss, too, standin' three hands +higher than the tallest of our ponies. Also, it has a ewe neck an' +lib'ral legs. It's name is 'Henry of Navarre,' but we sees at once +that sech'll never do, an' re-christens him 'Boomerang Bob.' + +"When this hoss arrives Boggs gets excited, an' him an' the Turner +person lays out a track all around town like a belt. Boggs allows it's +a mile long, or near enough, an' after a passel of Greasers cl'ars +away the cactus an' mesquite an' Spanish bayonet, the Turner person +hooks up Boomerang to a mountain wagon, an' sends him 'round an' +'round an' 'round at a pace that'd make your eyes stick out so far you +could see your sins. Old Boomerang is shore some eevanescent! When +that Turner person shakes the reins an' yells 'Skoot!' you could hear +him whizz. On sech occasions he's nothin' short of a four-laigged +meteor, an' looks forty feet long passin' a given p'int. + +"The big drawback is that thar ain't no quadrooped anywhar about to +race Boomerang ag'inst. Leastwise, we don't hear of none for goin' on +some months, an' when we do it's as far away as Albuquerque. Some +consumptive tenderfoot, it looks like, has got a trottin' hoss over +some'ers between Albuquerque an' Socorro, sech at least is the word +which comes to us. + +"When this pulmonary sport hears of Boomerang, which he does by +virchoo of the overblown boastin's of the Turner person, he announces +that his hoss, Toobercloses, can beat him for money, marbles or chalk. +Then comes a season of bluff an' counter-bluff, the pulmonary party +insistin' that the Turner person bring Boomerang up to Albuquerque, +an' the Turner person darin' the pulmonary sport to fetch his 'dog,' +as he scornfully terms Toobercloses, down to Wolfville. + +"It's to be said for the Turner person that he'd have shore took +Boomerang, an' gone romancin' off to Albuquerque, lookin' for that +weak-lunged reprobate an' his hoss, only sent'ment is plumb ag'inst +it. We-all don't propose to lose the camp the advantages of that +contest, an' so to put an eend to discussion, we urges upon the Turner +person that we-all'll shore kill him if he tries. This yere firmness +gives us the pref'rence over Albuquerque, an' the pulmonary sport +allows final that he'll come to Wolfville, but don't say when. + +"While eevents is thus a-whirl, an' the camp's all keyed up to concert +pitch over the comin' race between Boomerang an' Toobercloses, the +long-hoped for comes to pass an' the Turner person, as fooneral +director, receives his 'nitial call. Over in Red Dog is a party named +Holt. He ain't standin' none too high, him havin' married a Mexican +woman, an' even them Red Dogs has the se'f-respect to draw the social +line at Mexicans. One sun-up, however, she goes trapesin' across the +line to visit her people down near Casa Grande, an' she never does +come back. It looks like she's got enough of old Holt, which to gents +who knows him don't go trenchin' on the strange. + +"The long suit of this yere Mexican wife of old Holt's is thinkin' +she's sick, she holdin' that she's got as many things the matter with +her as is preyin' on Armstrong's uncle. When she breaks out of the +corral an' goes stampedin' off to her tribe, she leaves behind mebby +it's a hundred bottles or more of patent med'cine, rangin' all the way +from arnica to ha'r dye. + +"Followin' her flight that a-way old Holt goes to takin' an account of +stock by way of seein' what she cabbages an' what she leaves, an' the +first flash he blunders upon this yere bushel or so of drugs. He's too +froogal to throw 'em away, old Holt is, bein' plumb pars'monious that +a-way, an' after revolvin' the play in his mind for a spell, he ups +an' swallows 'em to save 'em. + +"No one ever does figger out jest what individyooal med'cine bumps +old Holt off that time, an' thar's no sayin' whether it's the arnica +or the ha'r dye or some other deecoction, or simply the whole +clan-jamfrey in comb'nation. Not that any gent goes to reely delvin' +for the trooth, the gen'ral interest pitchin' camp contentedly on +the simple fact that old Holt's been shore put over the jump. Doc +Peets? Old Holt's packed in before the Doc's half way to Red Dog. +Shore; some of them bottled med'cines is as ack'rate an' as full +of action as a six-shooter. + +"Of course we-all is pleased to think the Turner person, as fooneral +director, ain't been born to bloom onseen, but the rift in the floote +is that the corpse belongs to Red Dog. Old Holt ain't ours none, an' +from whatever angle we looks at it it appears like Wolfville ain't +goin' to get a look in. + +"It's at pinches sech as this that Enright shows his genius for +leadership. While all of us is lookin' bloo, to see how Red Dog beats +us to it for our own hearse, our fertile old war chief is ribbin' up a +game for pop'lar relief. + +"The Red Dog del'gation, headed by the Red Dog chief, comes over to +round up the Turner person an' his hearse to entomb old Holt. At their +showin' up Enright begins to onkiver his diplomacy. + +"'Which we symp'thizes with you-all in your bereevement, gents,' says +he to the Red Dog bunch, 'but it's ag'inst our rooles for this yere +hearse to go outside of camp.' + +"'Ain't you actin' some niggardly about that hearse?' asks the Red Dog +chief coldly. + +"'Not niggardly, only proodent. Death cometh as a thief in the night, +speshully in Arizona, an' we-all'd be a fine band of prairie dogs to +go lendin' our only hearse all over the territory, an' mebby have it +skallyhootin' 'round som'ers up about the Utah line jest when we needs +it at home. However, as refootin' your onjest charge of bein' +niggards, if you-all Red Dogs wants to bring deceased over yere, our +entire lay-out is at your disposal. Allowin' you can find your own +sky-pilot, we stands ready to not only let you have our hearse, but +furnish you likewise with moosic from the Bird Cage Op'ry House, +cha'rs from the dance hall, the Noo York store to hold serv'ces in, to +say nothin' to considerin' you-all as our guests from soda to hock, +with every Red Light thing said term implies.' + +"'Also,' observes Peets, who, from his place at Enright's elbow, is +ridin' circumspect herd on the play--'also, we presents you-all, +without money an' without price, a sepulcher in our buryin' ground on +Boot Hill.' + +"This yere last provokes a storm of protest, the Red Dog del'gation +takin' turns exposchoolatin'. But Enright an' the Doc stands ca'mly +pat. + +"'Which now,' says the Red Dog chief, an' his tones is bitter--'which +now I begins to ketch onto your plot. You savvys as well as I do that +old Holt don't ought to go into your pile at all. He belongs in our +pile--to Red Dog's pile. An' let me reemind you intriguers that Red +Dog owns its own cem'tery over in Headboard Hollow, an' ain't askin' +graveyard odds of any outfit west of the Spanish Peaks. This is a fine +idee,' he concloods, turnin' sneerin'ly to his cohorts; 'not content +with tryin' to grab off these yere obs'quies, they're brazenly +manooverin' to purloin the corpse.' + +"At these contoomelius reemarks Boggs, Tutt, Moore an' Cherokee takes +to edgin' to the fore, but Enright reepresses 'em with a admon'tory +wave of his hand. + +"'Gents,' he says, to the Red Dog hold-ups, 'as vis'tors, even though +se'f-invited, you're entitled to courtesy. But thar's a limit goes +with courtesy even, an' you-all mustn't press it.' + +"This last sets the Red Dog outfit back on its apol'getic ha'nches, +an' after a few more footile but less insultin' bluffs, they retires +to consult. The wind-up is that they yields to Enright's terms, +incloosive of Boot Hill, an' after libatin' at the Red Light they +canters off to freight over old Holt, so's to be ready to hold the +fooneral next day. + +"As I looks back to them prep'rations thar's no denyin' that as a +fooneral director the Turner person proves himse'f plumb cap'ble of +gettin' thar with the goods. Once he reeceives the word, everything +goes off as measured an' steady as the breathin' of a sleepin' child. +Even the Red Dog chief is moved to softer views, as gents frequent be +followin' the eighth drink, an' whispers to Enright, confidenshul, +that when all's in the only thing he deplores is that old Holt is +bein' planted on Boot Hill instead of in Headboard Hollow. At this +Enright, meetin' the Red Dog chief half-way, whispers back that later, +if Red Dog desires the same, we'll jump in an' move old Holt a whole +lot to Headboard Hollow. At this lib'ral'ty the Red Dog chief squeezes +Enright's hand a heap fraternal, an' chokes with emotion. He sobs out +that this is the one thing wanted to reestore them former friendly +reelations between the camps. + +"The procession is one of the most exhil'ratin' pageants ever seen in +the Southwest. At the head is the ploomed hearse, old Holt inside, +the Turner person on the box. Next comes the stage coach, Monte +drivin', an' Nell, Missis Rucker, Tucson Jennie, little Enright Peets, +the Turner person's Peggy bride an' other ladies inside. The balance +of us attends on our ponies, ridin' two an' two. + +"As we're waitin' for the preacher sharp, who's goin' in the stage, to +get tucked in among the ladies, a hollow-chested, chalk-cheeked, +sardonic-lookin', cynical-seemin' bandit, drivin' a lean-laigged hoss +to one of them spid'ry things they calls a quill-wheel, comes +pirootin' along over to one side of the fooneral cortege at a walk. +He's p'intin' in from over Red Dog way, but I savvys from the +wonderin' faces of them Red Dog sports that he's as new to them as us. +The cynical bandit skirts along our procession ontil he's abreast of +the hearse. Then he pulls up, we-all not havin' had the word to start +as yet. + +"The Turner person has hooked up old Boomerang to the hearse, so as to +confer on this his first fooneral all the style he can. Havin' halted +his quill-wheel, the hectic bandit, coughin' a little, p'ints his whip +at Boomerang an' says to the Turner person: + +"'Is this the skate you're tryin' to match ag'inst my Toobercloses?' + +"'Grizzly b'ars an' golden eagles!' exclaims Boggs, who's ridin' next +to me, 'if he ain't that lunger from Albuquerque!' An' Boggs pulls out +to the left, an' crowds up towards the hearse for a closer look. + +"'As fooneral director,' the Turner person replies to the hectic, +quill-wheel bandit, whom he fathoms instantly--'as fooneral director, +I must preeserve the decorums. But only you wait, you onblushin' +outlaw, ontil I've patted down the sods on old Holt yere, an' I'll +race you for every splinter you own.' + +"'That's all right,' retorts the hectic bandit, givin' another little +cat-cough. 'Which you needn't get your ondertakin' back up none. +Meanwhile, I'll nacherally string along with these obs'quies, so's to +be ready to talk turkey to you when you're through.' + +"Enright gives the signal an', with Boomerang an' the hearse at the +head, the procession lines out at a seedate walk for the grave. + +"Boot Hill's been located about a mile an' a half off, so as to give +our foonerals doo effect. As we pushes for'ard, everything mighty +solemn, the hectic bandit, keepin' a few feet off to one side, walks +his hoss parallel with the hearse. Every now an' then his hoss, makin' +a half bolt as if he's been flicked by the lash, would streak ahead a +rod or two like a four-laigged shadow. Then he'd pull him down to a +walk, an' sort o' linger along ontil the hearse comes up ag'in. He +does this a half dozen times; an' all in a hectorin' sperit that'd +anger the pulseless soul of a clam. + +"One way an' another it stirs up the feelin's of old Boomerang, who's +beginnin' to bite at the bit an' throw his laigs some antic an' +permiscus. The Turner person himse'f acts like a party who's holdin' +onto his eemotions by the tail, so as to keep 'em from breakin' loose. +His face is set, his elbows squar'd, an' he's settin' up on his hearse +as stiff an' straight as a rifle bar'l, lookin' dead ahead between old +Boomerang's two y'ears. So it goes on for likely half a mile, the +hectic bandit seesawin' an' pesterin' an' badgerin' old Boomerang, now +dartin' ahead, now slowin' back to let the hearse ketch up. + +"As I yeretofore explains, the Turner person ain't arranged mental to +entertain more'n one idee at a time. My own notion is that as the +hectic bandit, with Toobercloses, commences to encroach more an' more +upon his attention, he loses sight that a-way of old Holt an' the +fooneral. Whatever the valyoo of this as a theery, thar comes a +moment, about a mile from Boot Hill, when, as sudden as the crack of a +rifle, away goes Boomerang with the rush of a norther. Toobercloses +ain't a second behind. Thar they be, Toobercloses ag'inst Boomerang, +quill-wheel ag'inst hearse, old Holt inside, racin' away to beat a +royal flush. + +"As hearse an' quill-wheel go t'arin' down the trail Monte gets the +fever, an' sets to pourin' the buckskin into his three span, an' +yellin' like forty Apaches. The six hosses goes into their collars +like lions, an' the stage takes to rockin' an' boundin' an' bumpin' in +clost pursoote of the hearse. Nor be we-all on ponies left any behind, +you bet. We cuts loose, quirt an' spur, an' brings up the r'ar in a +dust-liftin', gallopin' half-moon. It's ondoubted the quickest-movin' +fooneral that ever gets pulled off. + +"Old Holt, an' put it lightest, is a one hundred an' eighty pounder, +an' the hearse itse'f is as heavy as a Studebaker wagon. From +standp'ints of weight pore old Boomerang ain't gettin' a squar' deal. +Which the old hero ain't got no notion of bein' beat, though. He's all +heart an' bottom; an', game?--bald hornets is quitters to him! + +"The load begins to tell at last, though, an' inch by inch Toobercloses +starts to nose Boomerang out. It's then the flood-gates is lifted. +Nell, head out of one of the coach windows, starts screamin' to +Boomerang; Missis Rucker's got her sunbonnet out of another, +expressin' her opinion of the hectic bandit an' Toobercloses; Tucson +Jennie is shoutin' for Dave to come an' rescue her; the Turner +person's Peggy is shriekin' with hysterics; the preacher sharp--who's +tryin' to get at Monte--is talkin' scriptoorally but various, while +little Enright Peets is contreebutin' his small cub-coyote yelps of +exultation to the gen'ral racket. + +"Back among us riders the bets is flyin' hither an' yon as thick as +swallow birds at eventide, we offerin' hundreds on Boomerang an' them +Red Dogs backin' Toobercloses. It's as the tech of death to the +Wolfville heart when we sees Toobercloses slowly surgin' to the fore. + +[Illustration: THAR'S A BOMBARDMENT WHICH SOUNDS LIKE A BATTERY OF +GATLINGS, THE WHOLE PUNCTCHOOATED BY A WHIRLWIND OF "WHOOPS!" p. 317.] + +"Half-way to Boot Hill Boggs spurs up on the nigh flank of Boomerang. + +"'Yere's whar we puts a little verve into this thing!' he roars; an' +pullin' his guns he begins shakin' the loads out of 'em like roman +candles. + +"Wolfville an' Red Dog, every gent follows Boggs' example. It sounds +like a battery of gattlings, the whole punctchooated by a whirlwind of +'Whoops!' that'd have backed a war party of Apaches over a bluff. They +almost hears us in Tucson. + +"Old Boomerang reesponds noble to Boggs's six-shooters. They was the +preecise kind of encouragement he's been waitin' for, an' onder their +inspiration he t'ars by Toobercloses like a thrown lance. We sweeps on +to Boot Hill, makin' a deemoniac finish, old Boomerang leadin' by the +len'th of the hearse. + +"Nobody's hurt, onless you wants to count that hectic bandit from +Albuquerque. After he's beat cold, Toobercloses gets tangled up +accidental in a mesquite bush, the quill-wheel swaps eends with +itse'f, an' the hectic Albuquerque bandit lands head on in a bunch of +cactus. He's shore a spectacle; an' Peets says private that for a +while thar's hopes he'll die. As for the parson, who's the sorest +divine in Arizona, he allows that the only bet he ever knows +prov'dence to overlook is not breakin' the hectic bandit's neck. + +"Nacherally, the Red Dogs feels some grouchy at the way things has +gone, an' while they gives up their orig'nal thought of lynchin' the +hectic bandit, they're plenty indignant at him for turnin' old Holt's +fooneral into a hoss race. It ain't old Holt that's frettin' 'em so +much as that they feels like it's a disgrace on their camp. + +"This yere Red Dog feelin' prodooces a onlooked for effect. They goes +gloomin' an' glowerin' 'round, an' talkin' to themselves to sech a +hostile extent it ups an' scares the Turner person. Plumb timid by +nacher, he gets afraid the Red Dogs' indignation'll incloode him +final, an' eend by drawin' their horns his way. It's no use tryin' to +ca'm him. Argyooment, reemonstrance, even a promise to protect him +with our lives, has no effect. The Turner person, in a last stampede +of his nerve, is for dustin' back to Missouri--him an' his Peggy +bride. He says it's more peaceful, more civ'lized thar, which shore +strikes us as a heap jocose. In the end, however, we has to let him +go. + +"The hearse? + +"We keeps the hearse, that an' Boomerang; Armstrong's uncle buys 'em. +He says he don't aim to be sep'rated none from the only hearse within +a hundred miles, an' him on the verge of the grave. + +"'Which my only reason for livin' now,' says he, 'is to lac'rate +Boggs, an' even that as a pastime is beginnin' to pall.' + +"What time does Boomerang make? + +"No one preetends to hold a watch. Thar's one thing, though, which +looks like he was shore goin' some. Tutt on the way back picks up a +dead jack-rabbit, that's been run over by the hearse." + + + + +XII + +SPELLING BOOK BEN + + +"Which it's as you states." The old cattleman assumed the easy +attitude of one sure of his position. "Reefinement, that a-way, will +every now an' then hit the center of the table in manner an' form most +onexpected. Thar's Red Dog. Now whoever do you reckon would look for +sech a oncooth outfit to go onbeltin' in any reefined racket? An' yet +thar's once at least when Red Dog shows it's got its silken side. + +"An', after all, mebby I'm too narrow about Red Dog. Thar's times +when I fears that drawn aside by prejewdyce I misjedges Red Dog +utter, an' takes for ignorant vulgar'ty what comin' down to cases is +merely noise. It's the whiskey they drinks, most likely. They're +addicted to a kind of cat-bird whiskey over thar, which sets 'em to +whistlin' an' chirpin' an' twitterin' an' teeterin' up an' down on +the conversational bough, to sech a seemin'ly empty-headed extent it's +calc'lated to mislead the ca'mest intellects into a belief that the +c'rrect way to deal with Red Dog is to build one of these yere +stone corrals 'round it, call it a loonatic asylum, an' let it go at +that. + +"Wolfville's whiskey? + +"We-all confines ourselves to Valley Tan an' Willow Run an' Old +Jordan, all lickers which has a distinct tendency to make a gent +seedate, an' render him plumb cer'monious. I in no wise exaggerates +when I avers that I freequent cuts the trail of parties who, after the +tenth or mebby it's the 'leventh drink across the Red Light bar, waxes +that punctillious they even addresses a measly Mexican as 'Sir.' + +"Recurrin' to Red Dog, that silken occasion which I has in mind occurs +when, proceedin' without invitation an' wholly as volunteers, they +strings up the book-keep sharp who bumps off Spellin' Book Ben. Thar's +a brief moment when said action runs a profound risk of bein' +misconstrooed into becomin' the teemin' source of complications. You +see we ain't lookin' for nothin' in the way of a play from Red Dog +more del'cate than the butt of a six-shooter, an' it ain't ontil the +Red Dog chief himse'f onlimbers in planations, an' all plenty loocid, +that we ketches fully on. + +"Red Dog goes further an' insists on payin' over what money they +wagers, an' all as honorable as though that contest which they bets on +goes to a showdown. Enright won't have it, though, none whatever; an' +what with one side heatedly profferin' an' the other coldly refoosin', +it looks for a time like thar's goin' to be feelin'. Friction is +averted, however, when Peets--who's allers thar with the s'lootion to +any tangle--recommends that Red Dog an' Wolfville chip in half an' +half conj'intly, to buy a tombstone for Spellin' Book, with a +inscription kyarved tharon, the same to read: + + TO + THE MEMORY OF + SPELLING BOOK BEN. + PREFERRING DEATH TO THE + APPEARANCE OF IGNORANCE, + HE DIED + A MARTYR TO LEARNING AND + BRAVELY + DEFENDING A RIGHTFUL ORTHOGRAPHY. + THE LANGUAGE MOURNS + HIS LOSS. + +"'Which we simply aims by this yere hangin',' says the Red Dog chief +in makin' them explanations, the same bein' addressed to Enright, 'to +save you-all from a disagree'ble dooty.' + +"'As how?' deemands Enright, who's a heap deefensive by instinct, an' +never puts down his stack while the kyards is in the hands of the +dealer. + +"'As how to wit,' returns the Red Dog chief. 'Troo, this book-keep +malefactor ain't by rights no shore-enough Red Dogger, seein' he's a +importation of the express company's an' at best or worst no more'n a +sojourner within our gates. But, considerin' how he trails in yere +this evenin' in our company, we feels respons'ble. Wharfore, allowin' +that mebby--you-all standin' towards us visitors, that a-way, in the +light of hosts--your notion of hospital'ty gets its spurs tangled up +in your deelib'rations so it impedes the march of jestice, we +intervenes. Which I shorely trusts that no gent present regyards Red +Dog as that ontaught as to go cuttin' in on what's cl'arly a alien +game onasked. Red Dog ain't quite that exyooberantly bumptious, not to +say croodly gay. It's only to relieve the shoulders of you-all from a +burden that we strings said offender up.' + +"'_Bueno!_' replies Enright, followin' a dignified pause, like he's +weighin' the Red Dog chief's eloocidations. 'A gent, onless his hand +is crowded by some p'int of honor, allers takes the word of a fellow +gent. In view of which, the execootion you pulls off is yereby +accepted as kindly meant, an' as sech is kindly took. I'm preepared on +behalf of Wolfville to regyard the same as performed in a sperit of +del'cate courtesy. Whatever, Doc, do you-all say?' + +"'Like yourse'f, Sam,' says Peets, 'I grasps an' a'preeciates the Red +Dog attitoode. Also, I holds that the business thus constrooed is +calc'lated to cement relations between the two camps which, havin' +their roots in mutyooal esteem, is shore to b'ar froote in fraternal +affection.' + +"The Doc then goes on an' onbends in flatterin' asshorances that +nothin' could be finer worded than the Red Dog chief's oration, onless +it's Enright's reply. + +"'As a jedge of diction,' he concloods, 'an' a lover of proper +speakin', I'm onreserved in the view that the statements of both ought +to be preeserved as spec'mens of English ondeefiled.' + +"Thar havin' been talk enough, an' Enright an' Peets contendin' that +it's Wolfville's treat, both sides goes weavin' over to the Red Light +an' onbends in quite a frolic. + +"It'd shore been better if we had first cut down the corpse, an' +tharby dodged the wrath of Missis Rucker. It's certainly a oversight. +Bar that single incident, thar arises nothin' to mar the good feelin' +which everywhar preevails. Forchoonately, that don't occur none ontil +noon next day; an' by that time the Red Dog folks has all gone home, +leastwise all who can go without fallin' out of the saddle. Which if +them Red Dogs is present, an' able to form opinions, them intemp'rate +exhibitions of Missis Rucker, an' what she says an' threatens ag'inst +us, speshully Enright, would have mortified us to death. + +"As showin' the vagaries of the female mind, Missis Rucker seelects +that lynchin' as a topic at chuck time, an' she shore does carry on +scand'lous. We ain't but jest filed into the dinin' room, when she +t'ars loose at Enright like a cyclone in a calico dress. Son, she +certainly does curry our old Lycurgus frightful! + +"What does Enright do? + +"Whatever can he do more'n mootely arch his back, same as a mule in a +storm of hail, an' stand it? + +"When Missis Rucker has done freed her feelin's, an' got them +reecrim'nations dealt down to the turn, she shakes a finger onder +Enright's subdooed nose, an' fulm'nates a warnin'. + +"'I tells you once before, Sam Enright,' she says, 'an' I tells you +now ag'in, that you-all drunkards is either goin' to cease pesterin' +me the way you does, or I'm bound I'll make some among you plenty hard +to locate. Now don't you go tellin' me nothin',' she shouts, as +Enright starts to say somethin'; 'don't go harrowin' me up with none +of your fabrications. It's nothin' but your egreegious pompos'ty that +a-way, an' a gen'ral deesire to put on dog an' lord it over us pore +females with meals to cook an' water to draw, which sets you-all to +hangin' parties to the windmill whar they're plumb in the way. An' all +after me takin' my hands out of the dough, too, the time you +Stranglers puts that B'ar Creek Stanton over the jump, an' goin' in +person to the stage corral to p'int out a beam which is a heap better +adapted.' + +"'But, ma'am,' expostyoolates Enright, 'you've done followed off the +wrong wagon track entire. It ain't us none; it's them Red Dog savages. +So far as Wolfville's concerned, him bein' swung to the windmill, that +a-way, is plumb fortooitous.' + +"'Jest the same,' returns Missis Rucker, who's merciless an' refooses +to be softened, 'you better take heed a heap. This once I lets you get +away with that Red Dog crawl-out. But if ever I finds another party +suspended to the windmill so's I can't get no water, thar's a passel +of sots, of whom you, Sam Enright, is the onregen'rate chief, who'll +shore get their grub fortooitous.' + +"Peets, at this yere crisis, jogs Enright's elbow, by way of signin' +up to him to draw out; an', except from her domineerin' over Rucker +more'n common for a couple of days, she ceases her demonstrations. + +"Not but what Missis Rucker has some rights on her side. What with +feedin' forty of us folks three times a day, she's got a lot on her +mind; an' to find some sooperfluous sport hangin' in her way, when she +goes to fill her bucket, necessar'ly chafes her. + +"An' yet the Stranglers is up ag'inst it, too. Hangin' a culprit, +dooly convicted, is a public game; an' the windmill's the only piece +of public property in sight, besides bein' centrally sityooated. Also, +thar's nothin' in that corral bluff of Missis Rucker's. The beam she +alloodes to ain't big enough, an' is likewise too low. + +"Boggs, who sympathizes with Missis Rucker, once when we has a hoss +thief we don't need on our hands, su'gests we rope him up to the sign +over Armstrong's Noo York store. But thar's rival trade interests, an' +Enright fears it'll be took invidious as a covert scheme for drawin' +custom to Armstrong's emporium. + +"'Personally,' says Enright, 'I favors Dan's idee. But since +Armstrong's a member of the committee, you-all sees yourselves that +for us to go execootin' culprits on his sign that a-way, the direct +effects of which distinguishes him an' booms his game, would shore +breed jealousies.' + +"'How would it do,' asks Texas, 'if we takes them marts seeriatim, +an' one after another yootilizes all their signs?' + +"'With doo deference to Texas,' interjecks Tutt, 'this swingin' round +from sign to sign, with deeds of jestice, is a heap likely to subtract +from the deterrent effects. It's better we stick to the windmill, an' +takes chances on beddin' them resentments of Missis Rucker's down.' + +"'That's all right for you, Dave,' retorts Boggs; 'you're a married +man, an' eats at home. You wouldn't feel so plumb gala about quietin' +Missis Rucker if you-all was obleeged diurnal to depend upon that +easily exasperated matron for your _frijoles_, same as us. Tucson +Jennie's the best cook in Cochise County, an', bein' her husband that +a-way, you ain't in no place to jedge.' + +"'Dan's right, Dave,' declar's Peets; 'surrounded as you be, you can't +sense our peril, that is, sense it proper. Admirable as Tucson Jennie +is as wife an' mother, an' I says this onbiased by bein' one of two +after whom little Enright Peets is named, she's still more admirable +in her rôle of cook. For which reason, Dave, you-all, when Missis +Rucker threatens us, ain't able, as Dan says, to rightly gauge said +menaces.' + +"Them coolinary compliments to Tucson Jennie placates Tutt. He's half +started to bow his neck at Boggs, but they mollifies him. + +"'Mighty likely you're correct, Doc,' he returns, his face cl'arin'; +'an' I begs Dan's pardon for some things I was goin' to say. My wife +is shore an exempl'ry cook, an' mebby I ain't no fit jedge. None the +less, you-all'll find, as to them hangin's, that this yere goin' about +from pillar to post with 'em is doo to rob 'em of their moral side.' + +"'I feels like Dave,' observes Enright, comin' in on the pow-wow. +'Lynchin's, to have weight an' be a credit to us, ought not to be +erratic. A lack of reg'larity about 'em would shake our standin' as a +camp.' + +"Monte starts the business that time when Red Dog astounds us with its +del'cacy, by comin' bulgin' in one evenin' with word about how the +leadin' inflooences in Tucson is broke out in a perfect deebauch of +spellin' schools. + +"'An' I'm yere to remark,' says he, in his conceited, rum-soaked way, +'that these yere contests contreebootes a mighty meetropol'tan +atmosphere.' + +"'Who orig'nates spellin' schools, anyway?' asks Boggs, whose +curiosity is allers at half-cock. 'Which it's the first time I hears +of sech things.' + +"'Spellin' schools ain't nothin' new,' Peets replies. 'They're as +common as deelirum treemons in the East.' + +"'Which they certainly be,' corroborates Enright. 'Back along the +Cumberland, as far away as when I'm a boy, we has 'em constant same as +chills an' fever. We-all young bucks attends 'em mighty loyal, too, +an' fights to see who-all goes home with the girls. When it comes to +bein' pop'lar, spellin' schools is a even break with gander +pullin's.' + +"'Thar's a Tucson kyard sharp,' continyoos Monte, 'over to the +Oriental s'loon, who tells me them spellin' schools is likewise all +the rage in Prescott an' Benson an' Silver City. That Lightnin' Bug +tarrapin' from Red Dog is loafin' about, too, while the kyard sharp's +talkin', his y'ears a-wavin' like a field of clover. You don't figger +thar's a chance that Red Dog gets the notion, Sam, an' takes to +holdin' them tournaments of learnin' itse'f?' + +"What Monte says sets us thinkin'. As a roole we don't pay much heed +to his observations, the same bein' freequent born of alcohol. But +that bluff about Red Dog sort o' scares us up a lot. Good can come out +of Nazareth, an' even Monte might once in a while drive the center as +a matter of luck. + +"'It wouldn't do us, Doc,' says Enright, who's made some oneasy by the +thought--'which it shore wouldn't do us, as an advanced camp, to let +Red Dog beat us to them spellin' schools.' + +"'I should confess as much!' admits Peets, mighty emphatic. 'Speakin' +from commoonal standp'ints, it'd mark us as too dead to skin.' + +"The sityooation takes shape in a resolootion to hold a spellin' +school ourselves, an' invite Red Dog to stand in. Sech steps is +calc'lated, we allows, to head off orig'nal action on the Red Dog +part. + +"'Let's challenge 'em to spell ag'in us,' says Texas. 'That's shore to +stop 'em from holdin' spellin' schools of their own, an' it'll be as +simple as tailin' steers to down 'em. I'll gamble what odds you +please that, when it comes to edyoocation that a-way, we can make them +Red Dogs look like a bunch of Digger Injuns.' + +"'Don't move your stack to the center on that proposition, Texas,' +observes Tutt, 'ontil you thoroughly skins your hand. Edyoocation +ain't wholly dead in Red Dog. Thar's a shorthorn over thar, him who +keeps books for the Wells-Fargo folks, who's edyoocated to a razor +edge.' + +"'Him?' says Boggs. 'That murderer ain't no book sharp speshul. Put +him ag'in the Doc or Col'nel Sterett, an' he wouldn't last as long as +a quart of whiskey at a barn raisin'. Which he's a heap sight better +fitted to shine in a gun-play than a spellin' contest.' + +"'But Col'nel Sterett ain't here none,' Tutt urges, 'havin' gone back +to see his folks; an' as for the Doc, he'll be needed to put out the +words. Some competent gent's got to go back of the box an' deal the +game, an' the Doc's the only stoodent in town who answers that +deescription.' + +"Armstrong, who's happened along lookin' for his little old forty +drops, lets on he knows a party down in El Paso who can spell any +word that ever lurks between the covers of a dictionary. + +"'That's straight,' Armstrong declar's. 'This yere El Paso savant can +spell anything. Which I've seen him spell the hind shoes off a +shavetail mule for the drinks. He's the boss speller of the Rio +Grande, so much so they calls him "Spellin' Book Ben."' + +"'Let's rope him up,' Peets suggests. 'Which them Red Dogs never will +quit talkin' if we-all lets 'em down us.' + +"'Do you-all reckon,' asks Enright, appealin' to Armstrong, 'you could +lure that El Paso expert up yere to partic'pate in this battle of the +intellects?' + +"'It's as easy as playin' seven-up,' Armstrong replies. 'Which I'll +write him I needs his aid to count up the stock in my store, an' you +bet he'll come a-runnin'.' + +"'But s'ppose,' argues Tutt, 'these Red Dog crim'nals wakes up to it +that this yere Spellin' Book Ben's a ringer?' + +"'In that event,' declar's Texas, 'we retorts by beltin' 'em over the +heads with our guns. Be they, as guests, to go dictatin' terms to +us?' + +"'Not onless they're tired of life,' says Boggs. 'While I can't spell +none to speak of, seein' my Missouri youth is more or less neglected +by my folks, showin' some Red Dog felon whar he's in wrong is duck +soup to me. In a play like that I sees my way triumphant.' + +"'Shore!' Texas insists, mighty confident; 'let Red Dog wag one feeble +y'ear, an' we buffaloes it into instant submission.' + +"'They can't make no objections stick,' Enright observes, after +thinkin' things over. 'This Spellin' Book Ben person'll be workin' for +Armstrong, an' that, as the Doc says, makes him a _pro tem._ citizen +of the camp. As sech he's plumb legit'mate. Red Dog couldn't lower its +horns at him as a hold-out, even if it would.' + +"It's settled, an' from then on thar's nothin' talked of but spellin' +schools. We issues our deefiance, Peets b'arin' the same, an' Red Dog +promptly calls our bluff. Regyardin' themselves as entrenched in that +gifted Wells-Fargo book-keep, they're mighty eager for the fray. The +_baile_ is set two weeks away, with Peets to hold the spellin' book. + +"After the time is fixed Monte comes squanderin' along an' gets +Enright to move it one day further on. + +"'Because, Sam,' the old sot urges, puffin' out his chest like he +amounts to somethin', 'that partic'lar evenin' you pitches upon I'll +be at the other end of the route, an' I proposes to get in on this +yere contest some myse'f.' + +"'You?' says Boggs, who overhears him, an' is nacherally astonished +an' contempchoous at Monte's nerve. 'Whatever be you-all talkin' +about? You can't spell none no more than me. The first word the Doc +names'll make you look like a pig at church.' + +"'All the same'--for Monte's been drinkin', an' allers gets stubborn +in direct proportion to what licker he tucks onder his belt--'all the +same, Dan, as to this yere spellin', I proposes to ask for kyards. +Even if I ain't no Bach'lor of Arts, so long as the Doc don't fire +nothin' at me worse'n words of one syllable, an' don't send 'em along +faster than two at a clatter, your Uncle Monte'll get thar, collars +creakin', chains a-rattlin', with both hoofs.' + +[Illustration: "ONLESS GIRLS IS BARRED," DECLARES FARO NELL, FROM HER +PERCH ON THE CHAIR "I'VE A NOTION TO TAKE A HAND." p. 337.] + +"Red Dog not only accepts our challenge, but gets that brash it offers +to bet. Shore, we closes with the prop'sition. It ain't no part of our +civic economy to let Red Dog get by with anything. I reckons, up one +side an' down the other, we puts up the price of eight hundred steers. +Texas and Boggs simply goes all spraddled out at it, while Cherokee +calls down one eboolient Red Dog specyoolator for three thousand +dollars. It's Wolfville ag'inst Red Dog, the roole to govern, 'Miss +an' out!' + +"The excitement even reaches the gentler sect. + +"'Which onless girls is barred,' declar's Nell, speakin' from her +lookout cha'r the second evenin' before the spellin' school is held, +'I've a notion to take a hand.' + +"'It wouldn't be a squar' deal, Nellie,' says Texas. 'With you in, +everybody'd miss a-purpose.' + +"'I don't see why none,' says Nell. + +"'For two reasons; first, because you're dazzlin'ly beautiful; an', +second, because Cherokee's too good a shot.' + +"'Shore,' says Boggs, plantin' a stack of reds open on the high kyard. +'Them contestants'd all lay down to you, Nellie. You certainly don't +reckon Cherokee'd set thar, him all framed up with a Colt's .45, an' +be that ongallant as to permit some clown to spell you down?' + +"Nell don't insist, an' the turn fallin' 'king-jack,' she nacherally +moves Boggs's reds to the check-rack. + +"On the great evenin' Red Dog comes surgin' in upon us, snortin' an' +prancin' an' pitchin'. Which it certainly is a confident band of +prairie dogs. Wolfville's organized and ready, Armstrong's Spellin' +Book Ben party havin' come over from El Paso three days prior. + +"Seein' how mighty se'f-possessed them Red Dogs feel, Boggs begins to +grow nervous. + +"'You don't reckon, Dave,' says he, speakin' to Tutt, 'that them +miscreents has got anything up their sleeve?--any little thing like a +ace buried?' + +"'Which they wouldn't dare. Also, since you brings the matter up, Dan, +I now gives notice that for myse'f I shall regyard success on their +part as absoloote proof of perfidy. That settled, I sacks that hamlet +of Red Dog, an' plows an' sows its deboshed site with salt.' + +"'That's the talk!' says Boggs. 'Let 'em win once, an' you an' me, +Dave,'ll caper over in our individyooal capac'ty, an' lay waste that +Red Dog hamlet if it's the last act of our lives.' + +"The spellin' school is schedjooled for the r'ar wareroom of the Noo +York store, whar the Stranglers convenes. All Red Dog is thar, +dressed up like a hoss, their Wells-Fargo book-keep in their exultant +midst. Enright calls the meetin' to order with the butt of his +six-shooter; our old warchief allers uses his gun as a gavel that +a-way, as lookin' more offishul. Also, since the dooty of a +presidin' officer is to preserve order, it's in line to begin with a +show--not too ondecorous--of force. + +"Enright states the object of the gatherin', an' Peets, spellin' book +in hand, swings into the saddle an' in a moment is off at a road gait. +The words falls thick an' sharp, like the crackin' of a rifle. Which +they shore does thin out them contestants plenty rapid! Boggs goes +down before 'Theery,' spellin' it with a extra 'e.' Tutt lasts through +three fires, but is sent curlin' like a shot jack-rabbit by 'Epitaph,' +which he ends with a 'f.' Texas dies on 'Definite,' bein' misled by +what happens to Tutt into introdoocin' tharin a sooperfluous 'ph.' + +"'I ain't none astonished,' Texas says sadly, when Peets informs him +that he's in the diskyard; 'since ever my former Laredo wife acquires +that divorce, together with al'mony an' the reestoration of her maiden +name, the same bein' Suggs, I ain't been the onerrin' speller I once +was.' + +"Cherokee has luck, an' lasts for quite a time. It's the 'leventh word +that fetches him. An' at that thar's a heap to be said on the side of +Cherokee. + +"The word's 'Capitol,' as Peets lets it fly. + +"'C-a-p-i-t-a-l,' spells Cherokee. + +"'Dead bird!' Peets says, plenty sententious. + +"'Whatever kind o' capital?' + +"'Capitol of a State.' + +"'Then I misonderstands you. Which I takes it you're referrin' to a +bankroll.' + +"The Doc, however, is obdoorate, an' Cherokee shoves back. + +"'I think,' says Nell, whisperin' to Missis Rucker an' Tucson Jennie, +who, with little Enright Peets, is off to one side--'I think the Doc's +a mighty sight too contracted in his scope.' + +"Monte falls by the wayside on 'Scenery,' an' is that preepost'rous +he starts to give Peets an argyooment. Monte spells it 'Seenry.' + +"'Whar do you-all get your licence, Doc,' he demands, when Peets tells +him how it's spelled, 'to jam in that misfit "c"? Me havin' drove +stage for twenty years, I've seen as much scenery as any gent present, +an' should shore know how it's spelled. Scenery is what you sees. +"S-e-e" spells see; an' tharfore I contends that "S-e-e-n-r-y" spells +scenery. That "c" you springs on us, Doc, is a solecism, an' as much +out of place as a cow on a front porch.' + +"Enright raps Monte down. '"Scenery" is spelled any way which the Doc +says,' declar's Enright, his eye some severe, 'an' I trusts no gent'll +compel the cha'r to take measures.' + +"'Say no more,' responds Monte, plenty humble and prompt. 'What I +urges is only to 'licit information. I still thinks, however, that +onder the gen'ral wellfare clause of the constitootion, an' with an +onfenced alphabet to pick an' choose from, a sport ought to have the +inalienable right to spell things the way he likes. Otherwise, +whatever is the use of callin' this a free country? If a gent's to be +compelled to spell scenery with a fool "c," I asks you why was +Yorktown an' wharfore Bunker Hill?' + +"Monte, havin' thus onloaded, reetires to the r'ar, coverin' his +chagrin by hummin' a stanzy or two from the well-known ditty, 'Bill, +of Smoky Hill.' + + Bill driv three spans of hosses, + An' when Injuns hove in sight, + He'd holler "Fellers, give 'em hell! + I ain't got time to fight." + + But he chanced one time to run ag'in + A bullet made of lead, + An' when they brung Bill into town, + A bar'l of tears was shed. + +"While Texas an' Boggs an' Tutt an' Cherokee an' Monte an' the rest of +the Wolfville outfit is fallin' like November's leaves, them Red Dog +bandits is fadin' jest as fast. If anything, they're fadin' faster. +They're too p'lite or too proodent to cavil at the presence of +Spellin' Book Ben, an' by third drink time after we starts thar's no +gents left standin' except that Wells-Fargo book-keep sharp for Red +Dog, an' Spellin' Book for us. It's give an' take between 'em for +mebby one hundred words, an' neither so much as stubs his orthographic +toe. + +"The evenin' w'ars into what them poets calls the 'small hours.' +Missis Rucker is wearily battin' her eyes, while little Enright Peets +is snorin' guinea-pig snores in Tucson Jennie's lap. + +"Thar comes a pause for Black Jack to pass the refreshments, an' Nell +takes advantage of the lull. + +"'Hopin' no one,' says Nell, 'will think us onp'lite, we ladies will +retire. Jedgin' from the way little Enright Peets sounds, not to +mention how I feels or Missis Rucker looks, it's time we weaker +vessels hits the blankets.' + +"'Yes, indeed,' adds Missis Rucker, smothering a yawn with her hand; +'I'd certainly admire to stay a whole lot, but rememberin' the hour I +thinks, like Nellie, that we-all ladies better pull our freight.' + +"Enright settin' the example, we gents stands up while the ladies +withdraws, little Enright Peets bein' drug along between Nell an' +Tucson Jennie plumb inert. + +"Peets resoomes his word-callin', an' them two heroes spells on for a +hour longer. + +"At last, however, the Wells-Fargo book-keep sharp commences to turn +shaky; the pressure's beginnin' to tell. As for Spellin' Book Ben, +he's as steady as a church. + +"'By the grave of Moses, Dan,' Tutt whispers to Boggs, 'that Red Dog +imposter's on the brink of a stampede.' + +"Peets gives out 'colander'; it's Spellin' Book Ben's turn. As he +starts to whirl his verbal loop the Red Dog adept whips out his gun, +an' jams it ag'inst Spellin' Book's ribs. + +"'Spell it with a "u,"' says the Red Dog sharp, 'or I'll shore send +you shoutin' home to heaven! Which I've stood all of your dad-binged +eryoodition my nerves is calk'lated to endoore.' + +"Spellin' Book Ben's game, game as yaller wasps. With the cold muzzle +of that book-keep murderer's hint to the onconverted pushin' into his +side, he never flickers. + +"'C-o,' he begins. + +"But that's as far as he ever gets. Thar's a dull roar, an' pore +Spellin' Book comes slidin' from his learned perch. It's done so +quick that not even Jack Moore has time to hedge a stack down the +other way. + +"'It's too late, Doc,' says pore Spellin' Book, as Peets stoops over +him; 'he gets me all right.' Then he rolls a gen'ral eye on all. +'Gents,' he says, 'don't send my remainder back to El Paso. Boot Hill +does me.' + +"Them's Spellin' Book's last words, an' they does him proud. + +"It's the Lightnin' Bug who grabs the murderin' book-keep sharp, an' +takes his gun away. Then he swings him before Enright. + +"'He's your pris'ner,' says the Red Dog chief, actin' for his outfit, +an' Enright bows his acknowledgments. + +"Son, it's a lesson to see them two leaders of men. Enright never +shows up nobler, an' you can wager your bottom peso that the Red Dog +chief is a long shot from bein' a slouch. + +"Jack Moore takes the Wells-Fargo book-keep homicide in charge, while +Enright, who declar's that jestice to be effectyooal must be swift, +says that onless shown reason he'll convene the committee at once. He +adds, likewise, that it'll be kindly took if the Red Dog chief, an' +what members of his triboonal is present, will b'ar their part. + +"In all p'liteness, the Red Dog chief deeclines. + +"'This is your joorisdiction,' he says, 'an' we Red Dogs can only +return the compliment which your su'gestion implies by asshorin' +you-all of our advance confidence in the rectitoode of what jedgments +you inflicts.' + +"'Speak your piece,' says Enright to the Wells-Fargo book-keep +culprit, when stood up before him by Moore. 'Whatever prompts you to +blow out this Spellin' Book Ben's candle that a-way?' + +"'Let me say,' exclaims the Wells-Fargo book-keep murderer, an' his +manner is some torrid, 'that I has five hundred dollars bet on this +yere contest----' + +"'That is a question,' interrupts Enright, suave but plenty firm, +'which will doubtless prove interestin' to your execooter. This, +however, is not the time nor place. I asks ag'in, whatever is your +reason for shovin' this yere expert in orthography from shore?' + +"'Do you-all think,' returns the Wells-Fargo murderer, 'that I'll +abide to see a obscoority like him outspell me?--me, who's the +leadin' speller of eight States and two territories, an' never scores +less than sixty-five out of a poss'ble fifty? Which I'd sooner die.' + +"'So you'd sooner die?' repeats Enright, as cold an' dark an' short as +a November day. 'Well, most folks don't get their sooners in this +world, but it looks a heap like you will!' Turnin' to Moore, he goes +on: 'Our friends from Red Dog'll hold your captive, Jack, while +you-all goes rummagin' over to the corral an' gets a rope, the +committee havin' come onprovided.' + +"Moore gives the Wells-Fargo homicide to the Red-Dog chief, an' +tharupon, we Stranglers bein' ready to go into execyootive session, +all hands except Enright an' the committee steps outside. We're in +confab mebby it's ten minutes, an' Enright has jest approved a +yoonanimous vote in favor of hangin', when thar's a modest tap at the +door. + +"It's the Lightnin' Bug. + +"'It ain't,' he says, when we asks his mission, 'that we-all aims to +disturb your deelib'rations none, gents, but the chief'd like to +borry Doc Peets for five minutes to say a few words over the corpse.' + +"Upon this yere hint we-all gambols forth, an' finds what's left of +the Wells-Fargo book-keep murderer adornin' the windmill. Thar's whar +their del'cacy comes in; that's how them Red Dogs saves us from a +disagree'ble dooty. + +"We plants Spellin' Book Ben on Boot Hill as per that sufferer's last +request, an' Red Dog graces the obsequies to a man. Thar Spellin' Book +lies to-day; an' the story of his ontoward takin' off, as told on that +tombstone conj'intly erected as aforesaid by Wolfville an' Red Dog, is +anyooally read by scores of devotees of learnin' who, bar'-headed an' +mournful, comes as pilgrims to his grave." + +THE END + + + + +"THE ART OF THE PHOTOPLAY" is a condensed textbook of the technical +knowledge necessary for the preparation and sale of motion picture +scenarios. More than 35,000 photoplays are produced annually in the United +States. The work of staff-writers is insufficient. Free-lance writers have +greater opportunities than ever before, for the producing companies can +not secure enough good comedies and dramas for their needs. The first +edition of this book met with unusual success. Its author, now the +Director General of Productions for the Beaux Arts Film Corporation, is +the highest paid scenario writer in the world, as well as being a +successful producing manager. Among his successes were the scenarios for +the spectacular productions: "Robin Hood," "The Squaw Man," "The Banker's +Daughter," "The Fire King," "Checkers," "The Curse of Cocaine" and "The +Kentucky Derby." + +WHAT THOSE WHO KNOW HAVE SAID: + +"In my opinion, based upon six years' experience producing motion +pictures, Mr. Eustace Hale Ball is the most capable scenario writer in the +business to-day." + + (Signed) W. F. Haddock, + Producing Director with Edison, Eclair, All Star, and + now President, Mirror Film Corporation. + +"Mr. Ball has thoroughly grasped present day and future possibilities of +the Moving Picture business with relation to the opportunities for real +good work by scenario writers." + + (Signed) P. Kimberley, + Managing Director, Imperial Film Company, Ltd., + London, England. + +"To those who wish to earn some of the money which the moving picture folk +disburse, Eustace Hale Ball proffers expert and valuable advice." + + New York Times Review of Books. + +"Ball's Art of the Photoplay puts into concrete form, with expert +simplicity, the secrets of writing photoplays which appeal to the millions +of Americans who attend the theatres and the producers can not buy enough +of such plays to satisfy the exhibitors." + + (Signed) Robert Lee Macnabb, + National Vice-President, Motion Picture + Exhibitor's League of America. + +"You have succeeded in producing a clear and helpful exposition of the +subject." + + (Signed) Wm. R. Kane, + Editor of "The Editor Magazine." + +12 mo. Cloth bound, $1.00 Net. + +G. W. DILLINGHAM CO., Publishers NEW YORK + + + + +THREE SPLENDID BOOKS BY + +ALFRED HENRY LEWIS + +FARO NELL AND HER FRIENDS + +A new story of "Wolfville" days--the best of all. It pictures the fine +comradeship, broad understanding and simple loyalty of Faro Nell to her +friends. Here we meet again Old Monte, Dave Tutt, Cynthiana, Pet-Named +Original Sin, Dead Shot Baker, Doc Peets, Old Man Enright, Dan Boggs, +Texas and Black Jack, the rough-actioned, good-hearted men and women who +helped to make this author famous as a teller of tales of Western frontier +life. + +12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Popular Edition. 50 Cents + +THE APACHES OF NEW YORK + +A truthful account of actual happenings in the underworld of vice and +crime in the metropolis, that gives an appalling insight into the life of +the New York criminal. It contains intimate, inside information concerning +the gang fights and the gang tyranny that has since startled the entire +world. The book embraces twelve stories of grim, dark facts secured +directly from the lips of the police and the gangsters themselves. + +12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Popular Edition. 50 Cents + +THE STORY OF PAUL JONES + +A wonderful historical romance. A story of the boyhood and later life of +that daring and intrepid sailor whose remains are now in America. +Thousands and tens of thousands have read it and admired it. Many consider +it one of the best books Mr. Lewis has produced. + +12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Popular Edition. 50 Cents + +G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY + +Publishers New York + + + + +Nine Splendid Novels by + +WILLIAM MacLEOD RAINE + +THE PIRATE OF PANAMA + +A tale of old-time pirates and of modern love, hate and adventure. The +scene is laid in San Francisco on board The Argus and in Panama. A +romantic search for the lost pirate gold. An absorbing love-story runs +through the book. + +12mo, Cloth, Jacket in Colors. Net $1.25. + +THE VISION SPLENDID + +A powerful story in which a man of big ideas and fine ideals wars against +graft and corruption. A most satisfactory love affair terminates the +story. + +12mo, Cloth, Illustrated. Net $1.25. + +CROOKED TRAILS AND STRAIGHT + +A story of Arizona; of swift-riding men and daring outlaws; of a bitter +feud between cattle-men and sheep-herders. The heroine is a most unusual +woman and her love-story reaches a culmination that is fittingly +characteristic of the great free West. + +12mo, Cloth, Illustrated. Popular Edition 50 cents. + +BRAND BLOTTERS + +A story of the Cattle Range. This story brings out the turbid life of the +frontier with all its engaging dash and vigor with a charming love +interest running through its 320 pages. + +12mo, Cloth, Illustrated. Jacket in Colors. Popular Edition 50 cents. + +"MAVERICKS" + +A tale of the western frontier, where the "rustler," whose depredations +are so keenly resented by the early settlers of the range, abounds. One of +the sweetest love stories ever told. + +12mo, Cloth, Illustrated. Popular Edition, 50 cents. + +A TEXAS RANGER + +How a member of the most dauntless border police force carried law into +the mesquit, saved the life of an innocent man after a series of thrilling +adventures, followed a fugitive to Wyoming, and then passed through deadly +peril to ultimate happiness. + +12mo, Cloth, Illustrated. Popular Edition, 50 cents. + +WYOMING + +In this vivid story of the outdoor West the author has captured the breezy +charm of "cattleland," and brings out the turbid life of the frontier with +all its engaging dash and vigor. + +12mo, Cloth, Illustrated. Popular Edition, 50 cents. + +RIDGWAY OF MONTANA + +The scene is laid in the mining centers of Montana, where politics and +mining industries are the religion of the country. The political contest, +the love scene, and the fine character drawing give this story great +strength and charm. + +12mo, Cloth, Illustrated. Popular Edition, 50 cents. + +BUCKY O'CONNOR + +Every chapter teems with wholesome, stirring adventures, replete with the +dashing spirit of the border, told with dramatic dash and absorbing +fascination of style and plot. + +12mo, Cloth, Illustrated. Popular Edition, 50 cents. + + + + +TRAFFIC IN SOULS + +Novelized from the Great Photo-Play + +By + +EUSTACE HALE BALL + +TRAFFIC IN SOULS is a powerful study, in fiction garb, of the vice +conditions of New York and their cure. The facts upon which it is based +were compiled from the John D. Rockefeller, Jr., White Slave Report, and +other documents of that nature, including Charles S. Whitman's, +District-Attorney of New York. + +The story tells of the active fight of a conscientious policeman, Officer +4434, Bobbie Burke, to thwart the evil machinations of a gang of organized +traffickers. His personal interest is suddenly doubled by the abduction of +the young sister of his fiancée, Mary Barton. Burke, assisted by Mary, +tracks the evil doers. After a sensational series of fights mixed with +thrilling detective work, many women, including the young sister, are +saved. The operations of the gangsters, in securing victims from the +emigrant ships, the railroad stations and the working classes are shown in +a manner treated delicately, yet imbued with a powerful moral lesson. The +tender love story of Bobbie and Mary purges the book of the morbidity +which it would otherwise possess. This photo-drama feature is the only one +dealing with White Slavery conditions which has met the unqualified +sanction of the District-Attorney's office, the Board of Censorship and +the other vice crusading societies of New York. + +12mo. Cloth. + +Illustrated with unusual photographs of the action of the drama. + +Popular Price, 50 cents net. By Mail, 60 cents. + +G. W. Dillingham Co., Publishers New York + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Faro Nell and Her Friends, by Alfred Henry Lewis + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FARO NELL AND HER FRIENDS *** + +***** This file should be named 29485-8.txt or 29485-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/4/8/29485/ + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Faro Nell and Her Friends + Wolfville Stories + +Author: Alfred Henry Lewis + +Illustrator: W. Herbert Dunton + J. N. Marchand + +Release Date: July 22, 2009 [EBook #29485] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FARO NELL AND HER FRIENDS *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_1' id='linki_1'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-fpc.jpg' alt='' title='' width='389' height='602' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +<span style='font-size:smaller'>WE MAKES FOUR TRIPS BACK AND FORTH BETWEEN WOLFVILLE AND RED DOG, CRACKIN' OFF OUR GOOD OLD '45'S AT IRREG'LAR INTERVALS, FARO NELL ON HER CALICO PONY AS THE GODDESS OF LIBERTY, BUSTIN' AWAY WITH THE REST. <i>Frontispiece. p.</i> 170.</span><br /> +</p> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:2.2em;margin-top:20px;margin-bottom:20px;'>FARO NELL<br />AND HER FRIENDS</p> +<p class='tp' style='margin-bottom:40px;font-size:larger;'>WOLFVILLE STORIES</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:0.8em;'>BY</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:larger;margin-bottom:20px;'>ALFRED HENRY LEWIS</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:0.8em;margin-bottom:40px;'>AUTHOR OF "WOLFVILLE," "WOLFVILLE DAYS," "WOLFVILLE NIGHTS," "WOLFVILLE<br />FOLKS," "THE BOSS," "THE SUNSET TRAIL," "THE APACHES OF<br />NEW YORK," "THE STORY OF PAUL JONES," ETC.</p> +<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'><img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-emb.jpg' /></div> +<p class='tp' style='margin-top:40px;font-size:smaller;margin-bottom:20px;'>ILLUSTRATIONS BY</p> +<p class='tp' style='margin-bottom:60px;font-size:larger;'>W. HERBERT DUNTON AND<br />J. N. MARCHAND</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:larger;'>G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY</p> +<p class='tp' >PUBLISHERS NEW YORK</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;'><span class='smcap'>Copyright</span>, 1913, <span class='smcap'>By</span><br />G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY</p> + +<p style='font-size:smaller;'><i>Faro Nell and Her Friends</i></p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='tp' style='margin-bottom:10px;'>THIS BOOK<br />IS DEDICATED TO</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:larger;'>WILLIAM EUGENE LEWIS</p> +<p class='tp' style='margin-top:10px;margin-bottom:10px;'>AS MARKING<br />MY APPRECIATION OF<br />WHAT QUALITIES PLACE HIM HIGH<br />AMONG THE BEST EDITORS<br />BEST BROTHERS AND BEST MEN<br />I'VE EVER MET</p> +<p class='tp' >A. H. L.</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<h3>CONTENTS</h3> +<table border='0' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents' style='margin:1em auto;'> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-size:0.8em'>CHAPTER</span></td> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='right'><span style='font-size:0.8em'>PAGE</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>I</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>DEAD SHOT BAKER</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#I_DEAD_SHOT_BAKER'>7</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>II</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>OLD MAN ENRIGHT'S UNCLE</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#II_OLD_MAN_ENRIGHTS_UNCLE'>39</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>III</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>CYNTHIANA, PET-NAMED ORIGINAL SIN</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#III_CYNTHIANA_PETNAMED_ORIGINAL_SIN'>61</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IV</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>OLD MONTE, OFFICIAL DRUNKARD</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IV_OLD_MONTE_OFFICIAL_DRUNKARD'>99</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>V</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>HOW THE MOCKING BIRD WAS WON</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#V_HOW_THE_MOCKING_BIRD_WAS_WON'>126</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VI</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>THAT WOLFVILLE-RED DOG FOURTH</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VI_THAT_WOLFVILLERED_DOG_FOURTH'>148</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>PROPRIETY PRATT, HYPNOTIST</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VII_PROPRIETY_PRATT_HYPNOTIST'>176</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VIII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>THAT TURNER PERSON</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VIII_THAT_TURNER_PERSON'>198</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IX</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>RED MIKE</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IX_RED_MIKE'>225</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>X</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>HOW TUTT SHOT TEXAS THOMPSON</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#X_HOW_TUTT_SHOT_TEXAS_THOMPSON'>260</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XI</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>THE FUNERAL OF OLD HOLT</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XI_THE_FUNERAL_OF_OLD_HOLT'>295</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>SPELLING BOOK BEN</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#XII_SPELLING_BOOK_BEN'>320</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class='pb' /> +<h3>ILLUSTRATIONS</h3> +<table border='0' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Illustrations' style='margin:1em auto;'> +<col style='width:75%;' /> +<col style='width:25%;' /> +<tr> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='right'><span style='font-size:0.8em'>PAGE</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>We makes four trips back and forth between Wolfville and Red Dog, crackin' off our good old '45's at irreg'lar intervals, Faro Nell on her calico pony as the Goddess of Liberty, bustin' away with the rest. . . . <i>Frontispiece</i></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_1'>170</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>We're all discussin' the doin's of this yere road-agent when Dan gets back from Red-Dog, an' the result is he unloads his findin's on a dead kyard.</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_2'>18</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>Dead Shot stops short at this hitch in the discussion, by reason of a bullet from the Lightin' Bug's pistol which lodges in his lung.</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_3'>28</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>The second evening Old Stallins is with us, Dan Boggs an' Texas Thompson uplifts his aged sperits with the "Love Dance of the Catamounts."</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_4'>42</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>"It's you, Oscar, that I want," observes Miss Bark. "I concloodes, upon sober second thought, to accept your offer of marriage."</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_5'>90</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>A couple of Enright's riders comes a packin' a live bobcat into town.</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_6'>118</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>Turkey Track, seein' he's afoot an' thirty miles from his home ranch pulls his gun an' sticks up the mockin' bird's buckboard.</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_7'>138</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>We sees the Turner person aboard an' wishes him all kinds of luck.</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_8'>222</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>"What's the subject?" Peets asks. "That, my friend, is the 'Linden in October,'" returns Mike, as though he's a showin' us a picture of Heaven's front gate.</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_9'>238</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>"Him an' Annalinda shore do constitoote a picture. 'Thar's a pa'r to draw to,' says Nell to Texas, her eyes like brown diamonds."</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_10'>280</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>Thar's a bombardment which sounds like a battery of gatlings, the whole punctchooated by a whirlwind of "whoops!"</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_11'>316</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>"Onless girls is barred," declares Faro Nell, from her perch on the chair "I've a notion to take a hand."</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_12'>336</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7' name='page_7'></a>7</span></div> +<h1>Faro Nell and Her Friends</h1> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<a name='I_DEAD_SHOT_BAKER' id='I_DEAD_SHOT_BAKER'></a> +<h2>I</h2> +<h3>DEAD SHOT BAKER</h3> +</div> +<p>"Which you never knows Dead Shot +Baker?"</p> +<p>This, from the old cattleman, with a questioning +glance my way.</p> +<p>"No? Well, you shore misses knowin' a +man! Still, it ain't none so strange neither; +even Wolfville's acquaintance with Dead +Shot's only what you-all might call casyooal, +him not personally lastin' more'n three months.</p> +<p>"This yere Dead Shot has a wife. Thar's +women you don't want to see ontil you're tired, +an' women you don't want to see ontil you're +rested, an' women you don't want to see no +how––don't want to see at all. This wife of +Dead Shot's belongs with the latter bunch.</p> +<p>"Last evenin' I'm readin' whar one of them +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8' name='page_8'></a>8</span> +philosophic sports asserts that women, that +a-way, is shore the sublimation of the oncertain. +That's how he lays it down; an' he never +hedges the bluff for so much as a single chip. +He insists that you can't put a bet on women; +that you can bet on hosses or kyards or 'lections, +but not on women––women bein' too +plumb oncertain. As I reads along, I can't +he'p feelin' that somehow this philosophic +party must have knowed Dead Shot's wife.</p> +<p>"The first time we-all ever sees Dead Shot, +he comes trackin' into the Red Light one evenin' +jest after the stage rolls up. Bein' it's +encroachin' on second drink time, he sidles up +to the bar; an' then, his manner some diffident +an' apol'getic, he says:</p> +<p>"'Gents, do you-all feel like a little licker, +that a-way?'</p> +<p>"It bein' imp'lite to reefuse, we assembles +within strikin' distance of the bottles Black +Jack is slammin' the len'th of the counter, an' +begins spillin' out our forty drops. At this he +turns even more apol'getic.</p> +<p>"'Which I trusts,' he says, 'that no one'll +mind much if I takes water?'</p> +<p>"Of course no one minds. Wolfville don't +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9' name='page_9'></a>9</span> +make no speshulty of forcin' whiskey onto no +gent who's disinclined. If they prefers water, +we encourages 'em.</p> +<p>"'An' for this yere reason,' expounds +Boggs, once when he ondertakes to explain the +public attitoode towards water to some inquirin' +tenderfoot––'an' for this partic'lar reason: +Arizona is a dry an' arid clime; an' water +drinkers bein' a cur'ous rarity, we admires to +keep a spec'men or two buck-jumpin' about, +so's to study their habits.'</p> +<p>"As we picks up our glasses, Dead Shot sets +to introdoocin' himse'f.</p> +<p>"'My name, gents,' he says, 'is Baker, Abner +Baker. The Wells-Fargo folks sends me +down yere from Santa Fe to ride shotgun for +'em.'</p> +<p>"The name's plenty s'fficient. It's him who +goes to a showdown with them three road +agents who lays for the stage over in a spur +of the Black Range back of San Marcial, an' +hives the three. That battle saves the company +$200,000; an', they're that pleased with +Dead Shot's industry, they skins the company's +bankroll for a bundle of money the size +of a roll of blankets, an' gives it to him by way +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10' name='page_10'></a>10</span> +of reward. It's the talk of the two territories.</p> +<p>"While we-all knows Dead Shot when he +speaks his name, none of us lets on. It's +ag'inst ettiquette in the southwest to know +more of a gent than what he tells himse'f.</p> +<p>"'So water's all you samples?' puts in Texas +Thompson, as we stands an' drinks.</p> +<p>"'It's like this,' explains Dead Shot, appealin' +round with his eye. 'You see I can't +drink nosepaint none, an' drink successful.'</p> +<p>"'Shore,' observes Faro Nell, who's takin' +her diminyootive toddy right at Dead Shot's +elbow; 'thar's gents so organized that to go +givin' 'em licker is like tryin' to play a harp +with a hammer.'</p> +<p>"That's me,' exclaims Dead Shot; 'that's +me, Miss, every time. Give me a spoonful, an' +I deemands a bar'l. After which, thar ain't no +se'f respectin' camp that'll stand for my game.'</p> +<p>"'I savvys what you means,' says Tutt; 'I +reecalls in my own case how, on the hocks of +mebby it's the ninth drink––which this is years +an' years ago, though––I mistakes a dem'crat +primary for a Methodist praise meetin', an' +comes ramblin' in an' offers to lead in pra'r. +Which I carries the scars to this day.'</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span></div> +<p>"'Which is why, Dave,' interjecks Cherokee +Hall, in hopes of settin' Tutt to pitchin' +on his p'litical rope, him bein' by nacher a +oncompromisin' reepublican that a-way––'which +is why you always holds dem'crats so +low.'</p> +<p>"'But I don't hold 'em low,' protests Tutt. +'Thar's heaps to be said for dem'crats, leastwise +for the sort that's pesterin' 'round in the +country I hails from.'</p> +<p>"'What be your dem'crats like, Dave?' +Texas urges. 'Which I wants to see if they're +same as the kind I cuts the trail of down about +Laredo.'</p> +<p>"'Well,' returns Tutt, 'simply hittin' the +high places, them dem'crats by which I'm born +surrounded chews tobacco, sw'ars profoosely, +drinks mighty exhaustive, hates niggers, an' +some of 'em can read.'</p> +<p>"'That deescription goes for Laredo, too,' +Texas allows. 'This yere jedge, who gives my +wife her divorce that time, an' sets the sheriff +to sellin' up my steers for costs an' al'mony, +is a dem'crat. What you says, Dave, is the +merest picture of that joorist.'</p> +<p>"'I expects my wife'll come rackin' along +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span> +<i>poco tiempo,'</i> Dead Shot remarks, after a +pause. 'I'm yere as advance gyard to sling +things into shape.'</p> +<p>"It's as good as a toone of music to see how +softly his face lights up. He's as big an' wide +an' thick an' strong as Boggs, an' yet it's plain +as paint that this yere wife of his, whoever she +is, can jest nacherally make curl-papers of +him.</p> +<p>"That mention of a wife as usual sets Texas +to growlin'.</p> +<p>"'Thar you be, Dan!' I overhears him +whisper, same as if he's been ill-treated; 'the +instant this Dead-Shot says "Water" I'm onto +it that he's a married man. Water an' matrimony +goes hand in hand.'</p> +<p>"'Now I don't see why none?' retorts +Boggs.</p> +<p>"'Because water's weakenin'. Feed a sport +on water, an' it's a cinch he falls a prey to the +first female who ropes at him.'</p> +<p>"'Thar's Dave,' Boggs argyoos, noddin' +towards Tutt. 'Ain't he drinkin' that time he +weds Tucson Jennie?'</p> +<p>"'Dave's the exception. Also, you-all remembers +them circumstances, Dan. Dave +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span> +don't marry Jennie; Jennie simply ups an' +has him.'</p> +<p>"'All the same,' contends Boggs, 'I don't +regyard Dead Shot's sobriety as no drawback. +Thar's lots of folks who's cap'ble of +bein' sober an' sociable at one an' the same +time.'</p> +<p>"These yere low-voiced wranglin's between +Texas an' Boggs is off to one side. Meanwhile, +the gen'ral confab proceeds.</p> +<p>"'You ain't been long hooked up?' says Doc +Peets, addressin' Dead Shot.</p> +<p>"'About a year. She's in the stage that +time I has the trouble with them hold-ups in +the Black Range, an' she allows she likes my +style.'</p> +<p>"'We-all hears about that Black Range +battle,' remarks Enright.</p> +<p>"'It's a mighty lucky play for me,' says +Dead Shot; 'I don't ree'lize it while I'm workin' +my winchester, but I'm winnin' a angel all +the time. That's on the level, gents! I never +puts my arm 'round her yet, but what I go +feelin' for wings.'</p> +<p>"'Don't this make you sick?' Texas growls +to Boggs.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span></div> +<p>"'No, it don't,' Boggs replies. 'On the contrary, +I'm teched.'</p> +<p>"'Gents,' goes on Dead Shot, an' I sees his +mustache tremble that a-way; 'I don't mind +confessin' she's that angelic I'm half afraid to +marry her. I ain't fine enough! It's like weddin' +gunny-sack to silk––me makin' her my +wife. Which I shore has to think an' argyoo +with myse'f a whole lot, before I gets the +courage. Ain't you-all ever noticed'––yere +he appeals 'round to Peets––'that every +time you meets up with a angel, thar's always +some smoke-begrimed an' sin-encrusted +son of Satan workin' double-turn to support +her?'</p> +<p>"Peets nods.</p> +<p>"'Shore! Well, it's sech reflections which +final gives me the reequired sand. An' so, one +evenin' up in Albuquerque, we prances over +before a padre an' we're married. You bet, +it's like a vision.'</p> +<p>"'Any papooses?' asks Tutt, plumb pompous.</p> +<p>"'None as yet,' confesses Dead Shot, lookin' +abashed.</p> +<p>"'Which I've nacherally got one,' an' yere +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span> +Tutt swells. 'You can put your case <i>peso</i> on +it he's the real thing, too.'</p> +<p>"'Little Enright Peets is certainly a fine +child,' remarks Nell. 'Dave, you're shore licensed +to be proud of him.'</p> +<p>"'That's whatever,' adds Boggs. 'Little +Enright Peets is nothin' short of bein' the +No'th Star of all hoomanity!'</p> +<p>"Mebby a week passes, an' one mornin' +Dead Shot goes squanderin' over to Tucson to +bring his wife. An' nacherally we're on what +they calls in St. Looey the 'quee vee' to see her. +At that, we-all don't crowd 'round permiscus +when the stage arrives, an' we avoids everything +which borders on mob voylence.</p> +<p>"Dead Shot hits the street, lookin' that +happy it's like he's in a dream, an' then goes +feelin' about, soft an' solic'tous, inside. At +last he lifts her out, an' stands thar holdin' her +in his arms. She's shore beautiful; only she +ain't no bigger 'n a ten year old youngone. +Yellow-ha'red an' bloo-eyed, she makes you +think of these yere china ornaments that's regyarded +artistic by the Dutch.</p> +<p>"They're certainly a contrast––him big as a +house, her as small an' pretty as a doll! An' +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span> +you should see that enamored Dead Shot look +at her!––long an' deep, like a man drinkin'! +Son, sometimes I fears women, that a-way, +misses all knowledge of how much they're +loved.</p> +<p>"'She ain't sick,' says Dead Shot, speakin' +gen'ral; 'only she twists her off ankle gettin' +out at the last station.'</p> +<p>"Dead Shot heads for the little 'dobe he's +fitted up, packin' his bloo-eyed doll in his arms. +What's our impressions? No gent who signs +the books as sech'll say anything ag'in a lady; +but between us, thar's a sooperior wrinklin' of +the little tipped-up nose, an' a cold feel to +them bloo eyes, which don't leave us plumb +enthoosiastic.</p> +<p>"'It's like this,' volunteers Enright, who +stacks in to explain things. 'Every gent's got +his ideal; an' this yere wife of his is Dead +Shot's ideal.'</p> +<p>"'Whatever's an ideal, Doc?' asks Boggs, +who's always romancin' about for information.</p> +<p>"'Which an ideal, Dan,' Peets replies, 'is +the partic'lar gold brick you're tryin' to buy.'</p> +<p>"At the time Dead Shot's standin' thar with +his fam'ly in his arms, Nell comes out on +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span> +the Red Light steps to take a peek. Also, +Missis Rucker an' Tucson Jennie is hoverin' +about all sim'lar. After Dead Shot an' his +bride has faded into their 'dobe, them three experts +holds a energetic consultation in the +street. Of course, none of us has the hardihood +to go j'inin' in their deelib'rations, but +from what's said later we gets a slant at their +concloosions.</p> +<p>"'Dead Shot's a mighty sight too good for +her,' is how Missis Rucker gives jedgment. +'It's peltin' pigs with pearls for him to go lovin' +her like he does.'</p> +<p>"Shore; bein' ladies that-a-way, Missis +Rucker, Tucson Jennie an' Faro Nell all visits +Dead Shot's wife. But the feelin' is that they +finds her some stuck up an' haughty. This +yere notion is upheld by Nell callin' her a +'minx,' while Tucson Jennie alloodes to her +as a 'cat' on two sep'rate occasions.</p> +<p>"Dead Shot an' his doll-bride, in the beginnin', +seems to be gettin' along all right. It's +only when thar's money goin' over, that Dead +Shot has to buckle on his guns an' ride out +with the stage. This gives him lots of time +to hang 'round, an' worship her. Which +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span> +I'm yere to reemark that if ever a white +man sets up an idol, that a-way, an' says +his pra'rs to it, that gent's Dead Shot. Thar's +nothin' to it; prick her finger, an' you pierce +his heart.</p> +<p>"'It'd be beautiful if it wasn't awful,' says +Faro Nell.</p> +<p>"It ain't a month when events lifts up their +p'isin heads, which goes to jestify them comments +of Nell's. Thar's been a White House +shift back in Washington, an' a new postmaster's +sent out. He's a dapper party, with what +Peets calls a 'Van Dyke' beard, an' smells like +a ha'r-dresser's shop.</p> +<p>"Now if affairs stops thar, we could have +stood it; but they don't. I abhors to say so, but +it ain't two weeks before Dead Shot's wife's +makin' onmistak'ble eyes at that postmaster. +Them times when Dead Shot's dooties has took +him to the other end of the trail, she's over to +the post office constant. None of us says anything, +not even to ourselves; but when it gets +to whar she shoves you away from the letter +place, an' begins talkin' milk and honey to him +right under your nose, onless you're as blind as +steeple bats, an' as deaf as the adder of scriptoore which stoppeth her y'ear, you're shore +bound to do some thinkin'.</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_2' id='linki_2'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-018.jpg' alt='' title='' width='444' height='409' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +<span style='font-size:smaller'>WE'RE ALL DISCUSSIN' THE DOIN'S OF THIS YERE ROAD-AGENT WHEN DAN GETS BACK FROM RED-DOG, AN' THE RESULT IS HE UNLOADS HIS FINDIN'S ON A DEAD KYARD. <i>p.</i> 18.</span><br /> +</p> +</div> +<p>"'Which if ever a gov'ment offishul,' exclaims +Texas, as he comes t'arin' into the Red +Light one evenin', deemandin' drinks––'which +if ever a gov'ment offishul goes organizin' his +own fooneral that a-way, it's this yere deeboshed +postmaster next door!'</p> +<p>"Thar's nothin' said, but we-all knows +what's on Texas's mind. That wife of Dead +Shot's, for the fo'th time that day, has gone +askin' for letters.</p> +<p>"'She writes 'em to herse'f,' is the way +Missis Rucker lays it down. 'Also, it's doo to +the crim'nal besottedness of that egreegious +Dead Shot. The man's shorely love-blind!'</p> +<p>"'You ain't goin' to t'ar into him for that, +be you?' Nell asks, her tones reproachful. +'Him lovin' her like he does shore makes +a hit with me. A limit goes in farobank; but +my notion is to take the bridle off when the +game's love.'</p> +<p>"'But all the same he needn't get that lovin' +it addles him,' says Missis Rucker. 'In a way, +it's Dead Shot's sole fault, her actin' like she +does. Instead of keepin' them Mexicans to do +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span> +her work, Dead Shot ought to make her go +surgin' round, an' care for her house herse'f. +Thar ain't nobody needs steady employment +more'n a woman. You-all savvys where it +says that Satan finds some mischief still for +idle hands to do? Which you bet that +bluff means women––an' postmasters––every +time.'</p> +<p>"Missis Rucker continues along sim'lar lines, +mighty inflexible, for quite a spell. She concloodes +by sayin':</p> +<p>"'You keep a woman walsin' round a cook-stove, +or wrastlin' a washtub, or jugglin' pots +an' skillets, same as them sleight-of-hand folks +at the Bird Cage Op'ry House, an' she won't +be so free to primp an' preen an' look at herse'f +in the glass, an' go gaddin' after letters +which she herse'f's done writ.'</p> +<p>"We-all can't he'p hearin' this yere, seen' +we're settin' round the O. K. dinin' table feedin' +at the time; but we stubbornly refooses to +be drawed into any views, Enright settin' us +the example. That sagacious old warchief +merely reaches for the salt-hoss, an' never +yeeps; wharupon we maintains ourselves stoodiously +yeepless likewise.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span></div> +<p>"Things goes on swingin' an' rattlin', an' +the open-air flirtations which Dead Shot's wife +keeps up with that outcast of a postmaster's +enough to give you a chill. We sets thar, +powerless, expectin' a killin' every minute. +An' all the time, like his eyes has took a layoff, +Dead Shot wanders to an' fro, boastin' an' +braggin' in the mushiest way about his wife. +Moreover––an' this trenches on eediotcy––he +goes out of his path to make a pard of the +postmaster, an' has that deebauchee over to his +shack evenin's.</p> +<p>"Dead Shot even begins publicly singin' the +praises of this office holder.</p> +<p>"'Which it's this a-way,' he says; 'what with +him bein' book-read an' a sport who's seen foreign +lands, he's company for my wife. She +herse'f's eddicated to a feather-edge; an', +nacherally, that's what gives 'em so much in +common.'</p> +<p>"Thar's all the same a note in Dead Shot's +voice that's like the echo of a groan. It looks, +too, as though it sets fire to Texas, who jumps +up as if he's stung by a trant'ler.</p> +<p>"'Come,' he says, grabbin' Boggs by the +shoulder.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span></div> +<p>"Texas has Boggs drug half-way to the +door, before Enright can head 'em off.</p> +<p>"'Whar to?' demands Enright; an' then +adds, 'don't you-all boys go nigh that post office.'</p> +<p>"'All right,' says Texas final, but gulpin' a +little; 'since it's you who says so, Sam, we +won't. Me an' Dan yere'll merely take a little +<i>passear</i> as far as the graveyard, by way of reecoverin' +our sperits an' to get the air. I'll +shore blow up if obleeged to listen to that +Dead Shot any longer.'</p> +<p>"'I sees it in his eye,' Enright explains in a +low tone to Peets, as he resoomes his cha'r; +'Texas is simply goin' to bend his gun over +that letter man's head.'</p> +<p>"'How often has I told you, Dan,' asks +Texas, after they gets headed for Boot Hill, +an' Texas has regained his aplomb, 'that women +is a brace game?'</p> +<p>"'Not all women,' Boggs objects; 'thar's +Nell.'</p> +<p>"'Shore; Nell!' Texas consents. 'Sech as +her has all of the honor an' honesty of a Colt's-45. +A gent can rely on the Nellie brand, same +as he can on his guns. But Nellie's one in one +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span> +thousand. Them other nine hundred an' +ninety-nine'll deal you the odd-kyard, Dan, +every time.'</p> +<p>"When Texas an' Boggs arrives at Boot +Hill, Texas goes seelectin' about, same as if +he's searchin' out a site for a grave. At last +he finds a place whar thar's nothin' but mesquite, +soapweed an' rocks, it's that ornery:</p> +<p>"'Yere's whar we plants him,' says Texas; +'off yere, by himse'f, like as if he's so much carrion.'</p> +<p>"'Who you talkin' about?' asks Boggs, +some amazed.</p> +<p>"'Who?' repeats Texas; 'whoever but that +postmaster? Dead Shot's got to get him soon +or late. An' followin' the obsequies, thar ain't +goin' to be no night gyards neither. Which if +them coyotes wants to dig him up, they're welcome. +It's their lookout, not mine; an' I ain't +got no love for coyotes no how.'</p> +<p>"'Thar ain't no coyote in Cochise County +who's sunk that low he'll eat him,' says Boggs.</p> +<p>"Like every other outfit, Wolfville sees its +hours of sunshine an' its hours of gloom, its +lights an' its shadders. But I'm yere to state +that it never suffers through no more nerve-rackin' +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span> +eepock than that which it puts in about +Dead Shot an' his wife. She don't bother us +so much as him. It's Dead Shot himse'f, +praisin' up the postmaster an' paintin' the sun-kissed +virchoose of his wife, which keeps the +sweat a-pourin' down the commoonal face. +An' all that's left us is to stand pat, an' wait +for the finish!</p> +<p>"One day the Wells-Fargo people sends +Dead Shot to Santa Fe to take a money box +over to Taos. Two days later, Dead Shot's +wife finds she's got to go visit Tucson. Likewise, +the postmaster allows he's been ordered +to Wilcox, to straighten out some deepartmental +kinks. Which we certainly sets thar +an' looks at each other!––the play's that rank.</p> +<p>"The postmaster an' Dead Shot's wife goes +rumblin' out on the same stage. Monte starts +to tell us what happens when he returns, but +the old profligate don't get far.</p> +<p>"'Gents,' he says, 'that last trip, when Dead +Shot's–––'</p> +<p>"'Shet up,' roars Enright, an' Monte shore +shets up.</p> +<p>"It comes plenty close to killin' the mis'rable +old dipsomaniac at that. He swells an' he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span> +swells, with that pent-up information inside of +him, ontil he looks like a dissipated toad. But +sech is his awe of Enright, he never dar's +opens his clamshell.</p> +<p>"It's a week before Dead Shot's wife gets +back, an' the postmaster don't show up till +four days more. Then Dead Shot himse'f +comes trackin' in.</p> +<p>"Faro Nell, who's eyes is plumb keen that +a-way, lets on to Cherokee private that Dead +Shot looks sorrow-ridden. But I don't +know! Dead Shot's nacherally grave, havin' +no humor. A gent who constant goes messin' +round with road agents, shootin' an' bein' +shot at, ain't apt to effervesce. Nell sticks +to it, jest the same, that he's onder a +cloud.</p> +<p>"Dead Shot continyoos to play his old system, +an' cavorts 'round plumb friendly with +the postmaster, an' goes teeterin' yere an' thar +tellin' what a boon from heaven on high his +wife is, same as former.</p> +<p>"Faro Nell shakes her head when Cherokee +mentions this last:</p> +<p>"'That's his throw-off,' she says.</p> +<p>"One evenin' Dead Shot comes trailin' into +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span> +the Red Light, an' strolls over to whar Cherokee's +dealin' bank.</p> +<p>"'What's the limit?' he asks.</p> +<p>"At this, we-all looks up a whole lot. It's +the first time ever Dead Shot talks of puttin' +down a bet.</p> +<p>"Cherokee's face is like a mask, the face of +the thorough-paced kyard sharp. He shows +no more astonishment than if Dead Shot's +been settin' in ag'inst his game every evenin' +for a month.</p> +<p>"'One hundred an' two hundred,' says +Cherokee.</p> +<p>"<i>'Bueno!'</i> an' Dead Shot lays down two +one-hundred dollar bills between the king and +queen.</p> +<p>"Thar's two turns. The third the kyards +falls 'ten-king,' an' Nell, from her place on +the lookout's stool, shoves over two hundred +dollars in bloo checks. Thar they are, with the +two one-hundred dollar bills, between the king +an' queen.</p> +<p>"'Does it go as it lays?' asks Dead Shot, it +bein' double the limit.</p> +<p>"'It goes,' says Cherokee, never movin' a +muscle.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span></div> +<p>"One turn, an' the kyards falls 'trey-queen.' +Nell shoves four hundred across to match up +with Dead Shot's four hundred.</p> +<p>"'An' now?' Dead Shot asks.</p> +<p>"'I'll turn for it,' Cherokee responds.</p> +<p>"It's yere that Dead Shot's luck goes back +on him. The turn comes 'queen-jack,' an' +Nell rakes down the eight hundred.</p> +<p>"Dead Shot's hand goes to the butt of his +gun.</p> +<p>"'I've been robbed,' he growls; 'thar's fifty-three +kyards in that deck.'</p> +<p>"Cherokee's on his feet, his eyes like two +steel p'ints, gun half drawed. But Nell's as +quick. Her hand's on Cherokee's, an' she +keeps his gun whar it belongs.</p> +<p>"'Steady!' she says; 'can't you see he's only +coaxin' you to bump him off?' Then, with her +face full on Dead Shot, she continyoos: 'It +won't do, Dead Shot; it won't do none! You-all +can't get it handed to you yere! You're in +the wrong shop; you-all ought to try next +door!' An' Nell p'ints with her little thumb +through the wall to the post office.</p> +<p>"Dead Shot stands thar the color of seegyar +ashes, while Cherokee settles ca'mly back in his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span> +cha'r. Cherokee's face is as bar' of expression +as a blank piece of paper, as he runs his eye +along the lay-out, makin' ready for the next +turn. Thar's mebby a dozen of us playin', but +not a word is spoke. Everyone is onto Dead +Shot's little game, the moment Nell begins to +talk.</p> +<p>"Matters seems to hang on centers, ontil +Nell stretches across an' lays her baby hand on +Dead Shot's:</p> +<p>"'Thar ain't a soul in sight,' she says, +mighty soft an' good, 'but what's your friend, +Dead Shot.'</p> +<p>"Dead Shot, pale as a candle, wheels toward +the door.</p> +<p>"'Pore Dead Shot!' murmurs Nell, the +tears in her eyes, to that extent she has to +ask Boggs to take her place as lookout.</p> +<p>"Four hours goes by, an' thar's the poundin' +of a pony's hoofs, an' the creak of saddle-leathers, +out in front. It's the Red Dog chief, +who's come lookin' for Enright.</p> +<p>"They confabs a minute or two at a table +to the r'ar, an' then Enright calls Peets over.</p> +<p>"'Dead Shot's gone an' got himse'f +downed,' he says.</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_3' id='linki_3'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-029.jpg' alt='' title='' width='391' height='602' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +<span style='font-size:smaller'>DEAD SHOT STOPS SHORT AT THIS HITCH IN THE DISCUSSION, BY REASON OF A BULLET FROM THE LIGHTIN' BUG'S PISTOL WHICH LODGES IN HIS LUNG. <i>p.</i> 29.</span><br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span></div> +<p>"'It's on the squar' gents,' explains the Red +Dog chief; 'Dead Shot'll say so himself. He +jest nacherally comes huntin' it.'</p> +<p>"It looks like Dead Shot, after that failure +with Cherokee in the Red Light, p'ints across +for Red Dog. He searches out a party who's +called the Lightnin' Bug, on account of the +spontaneous character of his six-shooter. +Dead Shot finds the Lightnin' Bug talkin' +with two fellow gents. He listens awhile, an' +then takes charge of the conversation.</p> +<p>"'Bug,' he says, raisin' his voice like it's a +challenge––'Bug, only I'm afraid folks'll +string you up a whole lot, I'd say it's you who +stood up the stage last week in Apache Canyon. +Also'––an' yere Dead Shot takes to +gropin' about in his jeans, same as if he's feelin' +for a knife––'it's mighty customary with +me, on occasions sech as this, to cut off the +y'ears of–––'</p> +<p>"Dead Shot stops short, by reason of a bullet +from the Bug's pistol which lodges in his +lungs.</p> +<p>"When Peets an' Enright finds him, he's +spread out on the Red Dog chief's blankets, +coughin' blood, with the sorrow-stricken Bug +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span> +proppin' him up one moment to drink water, +an' sheddin' tears over him the next, alternate.</p> +<p>"The Red Dog chief leads out the weepin' +Bug, who's lamentin' mighty grievous, an' +leaves Enright an' Peets with Dead Shot.</p> +<p>"'It's all right, gents,' whispers Dead Shot; +'I comes lookin' for it, an' I gets it. Likewise, +she ain't to blame; it's me. I oughtn't to have +married her that time––she only a girl, an' me +a full-growed man who should 'av had sense +for both.'</p> +<p>"'That's no lie,' says Peets, an' Dead Shot +gives him a grateful look.</p> +<p>"'No,' he goes on, 'she's too fine, too high––I +wasn't her breed. An' I ought to have seen +it.' Yere he has a tussle to hang on.</p> +<p>"Peets pours him out some whiskey.</p> +<p>"'It's licker, ain't it?' Dead Shot gasps, +sniffin' the glass. 'I'm for water, Doc, licker +makin' me that ornery.'</p> +<p>"'Down with it,' urges Peets. 'Which, if +I'm a jedge, you'll pack in long before you're +due to start anything extra serious, even if +you drinkt a gallon.'</p> +<p>"'Shore!' agrees Dead Shot, as though the +idee brings him relief. 'For a moment it slips +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span> +my mind about me bein' plugged. But as I'm +sayin', gents, don't blame her. An' don't +blame him. I has my chance, an' has it all +framed up, too, when I crosses up with 'em +recent over in Tucson, to kill 'em both. But +I can't do it, gents. The six-shooter at sech +a time's played out. That's straight; it don't +fill the bill; it ain't adequate, that a-way. So +all I can do is feel sorry for 'em, an' never let +'em know I knows. For, after all, it ain't +their fault, it's mine. You sports see that, +don't you? She's never meant for me, bein' +too fine; an', me a man, I ought to have +knowed.'</p> +<p>"Dead Shot ceases talkin', an' Enright +glances at Peets. Peets shakes his head plenty +sorrowful.</p> +<p>"'Go on,' he says to Dead Shot; 'you-all +wants us to do––what?'</p> +<p>"'Thar you be!' an' at the sound of Peets' +voice Dead Shot's mind comes creepin' back +to camp. 'She'll be happy with him––they +havin' so much in common––an' him an' her +bein' eddicated that a-way––an' him havin' +traveled a whole lot! An' this yere's what I +wants, gents. I wants you-all, as a kindness to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span> +me an' in a friendly way––seein' I can't stay +none to look-out the play myse'f––to promise +to sort o' supervise round an' put them nuptials +over right. I takes time by the forelock +an' sends to Tucson for a sky-pilot back two +days ago. Bar accidents, he'll be in camp by +to-morry. He can work in at the funeral, too, +an' make it a whipsaw.'</p> +<p>"Dead Shot turns his eyes on Enright. It's +always so about our old chief; every party +who's in trouble heads for him like a coyote +for a camp fire.</p> +<p>"'You'll shore see that he marries her?––Promise!'</p> +<p>"Thar's a quaver in Dead Shot's voice, Peets +tells me, that's like a pra'r.</p> +<p>"'Thar's my hand, Dead Shot,' says +Enright, who's chokin' a little. 'So far as +the letter man's concerned, it'll be the +altar or the windmill, Jack Moore an' +a lariat or that preacher party you refers +to.'</p> +<p>"Dead Shot's gettin' mighty weak. After +Enright promises he leans back like he's takin' +a rest. He's so still they're beginnin' to figger +he's done cashed in; but all at once he starts +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span> +up like he's overlooked some bet, an' has +turned back from eternity to tend to it.</p> +<p>"'About Cherokee an' his box,' he whispers; +'that's a lyin' bluff I makes. Tell him I don't +mean nothin'; I'm only out to draw his +fire.'</p> +<p>"After this Dead Shot only rouses once. +His voice ain't more'n a sigh.</p> +<p>"'I forgets to tell you,' he says, 'to give her +my love. An' you say, too, that I'm bumped +off like snuffin' out a candle––too plumb quick +for her to get yere. An' don't blame her, +gents; it's not her fault, it's mine.'</p> +<p>"It's the week after the fooneral. The postmaster's +still in town, partly by nacheral preference, +partly because Enright notifies Jack +Moore to ride herd on him, an' fill him as full +of lead as a bag of bullets in event he ondertakes +to go stampedin' off.</p> +<p>"In the Red Light the seventh evenin' Enright +rounds up Peets.</p> +<p>"'Doc,' he says, 'a month would be more +respect'ble, but this yere's beginnin' to tell +on me.'</p> +<p>"'Besides,' Peets chips in, by way of he'pin' +Enright out, 'that preacher sharp corraled over +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span> +to Missis Rucker's is gettin' restless. Onless +we side-lines or puts hobbles on that divine we-all +can't expect to go holdin' him much +longer.'</p> +<p>"Enright leads the way to the r'ar wareroom +of the Noo York store, which bein' whar the +stranglers holds their meetin's is Wolfville's +hall of jestice. After licker is brought Enright +sends Jack Moore for the postmaster, +who comes in lookin' plenty white. Missis +Rucker brings over the divine; an' next Dead +Shot's widow––she's plumb lovely in black––appears +on the arm of Peets, who goes in +person.</p> +<p>"Thar's a question in the widow's eye, like +she don't onderstand.</p> +<p>"'Roll your game,' says Enright to the +preacher sharp.</p> +<p>"It's yere an' now Dead Shot's widow fully +b'ars out that philos'pher who announces so +plumb cold, that a-way, that women's the sublimation +of the onexpected. Jack Moore's +jest beginnin' to manoover that recreant public +servant into p'sition on the widow's left +hand, so's he can be married to the best advantage, +an' the preacher sharp's gettin' out +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span> +an' openin' his book of rooles, when the widow +draws back.</p> +<p>"P'intin' at the bridegroom postmaster, +same as if he's a stingin' lizard, she addresses +Enright.</p> +<p>"'Whatever's the meanin' of this?'</p> +<p>"'Merely the croode preelim'naries, Ma'am,' +Enright explains, 'to what we-all trusts will +prove a fa'rly deesir'ble weddin'.'</p> +<p>"'Me marry him?' an' the onmitigated scorn +that relict exhibits, to say nothin' of her tone +of voice, shore makes the postmaster bridegroom +feel chagrined.</p> +<p>"'You'll pardon us, Ma'am,' returns Enright, +soft an' depreecatory, tryin' to get her +feelin's bedded down, 'which you'll shore pardon +us if in our dullness we misreads your +sentiments. You see, the notion gets somehow +proned into us that you wants this party. +Which if we makes a mistake, by way of repa'rin' +that error, let me say that if thar's any +one else in sight whom you preefers, an' who's +s'fficiently single an' yoothful to render him +el'gible for wedlock,'––yere Enright takes in +Boggs an' Texas with his gaze, wharat Texas +grows as green-eyed as a cornered +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span> +bobcat––'he's yours, Ma'am, on your p'intin' him out.'</p> +<p>"'Which I don't want to marry no one,' +cries the widow, commencin' to sob. 'An' as +for marryin' him speshul'––yere she glances +at the bridegroom postmaster in sech a hot an' +drastic way he's left shrivellin' in his own +shame––'I'd sooner live an' die the widow of +Dead Shot Abner Baker than be the wife of +a cornfield full of sech.'</p> +<p>"Everybody stares, an' Enright takes a +modicum of Old Jordan.</p> +<p>"'You don't deeserve this none,' he says at +last, turnin' to the postmaster bridegroom. +'Onder the circumstances, however, thar's nothin' +left for me to do as cha'rman but deeclar' +this yere weddin' a misdeal.'</p> +<p>"Texas is plumb disgusted.</p> +<p>"'Don't some folks have nigger luck, Dan?' +he says.</p> +<p>"Later, after thinkin' things up an' down in +his mind, Texas takes ombrage at Enright's +invitin' Dead Shot's widow to look him an' +Boggs over that a-way, an' take her pick.</p> +<p>"'Which sech plays don't stand ace-high +with me, Sam,' Texas says––'you tryin' to +auction me off like you does. Even a stranger, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span> +with a half-way hooman heart, after hearin' +my story would say that I already suffers +enough. An' yet you, who calls yourse'f my +friend, does all that lays in your callous power +to thrust me back into torment.'</p> +<p>"'Texas,' replies Enright, like he's bore +about all he can, 'you shorely worries me with +your conceit. If you-all won't take my word, +then go take a good hard look at yourse'f in +the glass. Thar's never the slightest risk, as +everybody but you yourse'f sees plainly, of +that lady or any other lady takin' you.'</p> +<p>"'You thinks not?' asks Texas, plenty incensed.</p> +<p>"'Which I <i>knows</i> not. No lady's lot ain't +quite that desp'rate.'</p> +<p>"'Well,' returns Texas, after a pause, his +face expressin' his soreness, 'I'm yere to say, +Sam, I don't agree with you, none whatever. +You forgets that I've already been took in +wedlock bonds by one lady. An' while that +Laredo wife of mine is hard an' crooel, all +Texas knows she's plumb partic'lar. Also, no +one ever yet comes pirootin' up the trail who +doubts her taste.'</p> +<p>"It's the evenin' before the preacher sharp +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span> +goes back to Tucson, when Enright edges him +off into a corner of the O. K. dinin' room.</p> +<p>"'Parson,' says Enright, lookin' like he's a +heap bothered about somethin'––'parson, in addition +to your little game as a preacher that +a-way, you don't happen to be up none on +table-tippin' or sperit rappin', same as them +mediums, do you?'</p> +<p>"'Which I shore don't,' replies the preacher +sharp, archin' his neck, indignant. 'Likewise, +I regyards them cer'monials you alloodes to +as satantic in their or'gin.'</p> +<p>"'Doubtless, parson,' returns Enright, some +disapp'inted, 'doubtless. Still, if you-all but +counts the rings on my horns, as givin' some +impression of the years I've lived an' what +troubles I've probably gone through, you'll +onderstand that I ain't takin' Satan no more +serious than a empty six-shooter. But the +mere trooth is, parson, I'm pestered by them +promises I makes deeceased. Which I'd give +a yellow stack to get put next to Dead Shot's +sperit long enough to explain concernin' them +nuptials, an' make cl'ar jest how me an' the +Doc falls down.'"</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span> +<a name='II_OLD_MAN_ENRIGHTS_UNCLE' id='II_OLD_MAN_ENRIGHTS_UNCLE'></a> +<h2>II</h2> +<h3>OLD MAN ENRIGHT'S UNCLE</h3> +</div> +<p>"Which you'll excoose me," and the old +cattleman replaced his glass upon the table +with a decisive click, "if I fails to j'ine you in +them sent'ments. For myse'f, I approves onreserved +of both lies an' liars. Also, that reemark +goes double when it comes to public liars +tellin' public lies. Which, however se'fish it +may sound, I prefers this gov'ment to last my +time; an' it's my idee that if them statesmen +back at Washington ever takes a hour off +from their tax-eatin' an' tells the people the +trooth, the whole trooth an' nothin' but the +trooth of their affairs, said people'll be down +on the sityooation instanter, like a weasel on +a nest of field mice, an' wipe the face of nacher +free an' cl'ar of these United States."</p> +<p>The above was drawn forth by my condemnatory +comments on the published speech of a +Senator, wherein the truth was as a grain of +wheat in a bushel of mendacious chaff.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span></div> +<p>"Shore," continued the old gentleman, with +the manner of one who delivers final judgment, +"lies is not only to be applauded, but +fostered. They're the angle-irons an' corner-braces +that keeps plumb the social fabric, +wantin' which the whole frame-work of soci'ty +would go leanin' sideways, same as that Eyetalian +tower you shows me the picture of the +other day. Why, if everybody in the world +was to go tellin' the trooth for the next hour +ninety-nine folks in every hundred would be +obleeged to put in the rest of their lives hidin' +out.</p> +<p>"Do I myse'f ever lie?</p> +<p>"Frequent an' plumb cheerful. I bases life +on the rooles laid down by that sharp who advises +folks to do unto others as others does +unto them, an' beat 'em to it. Believin', tharfore, +in handin' a gent his own system, I makes +it my onbreakable practice to allers lie to liars. +Then, ag'in, whenever some impert'nent prairie +dog takes to rummagin' 'round with queries to +find out my deesigns, I onflaggingly fills him +to the brim with all forms of misleadin' mendac'ty, +an' casts every fictional obstruction in +his path that's calc'lated to get between his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span> +heels an' trip him up. I shore do admire to +stand all sech inquirin' mavericks on their +heads, an' partic'ler if they're plottin' ag'in +me.</p> +<p>"An' why not? A party that a-way, as I +some time ago instructs you, ain't got no more +right to search my head than to search my warbags, +an' a gent who may lock a door may lie. +Which, if you'll go off by yourse'f an' think +this yere over, you'll see that it's so, an' so +with a double cinch.</p> +<p>"Thar's statements, too, which, speakin' +technical, might be regyarded as lyin' which +don't in jestice class onder no sech head. For +spec'men, when Dick Wooten, upon me askin' +him how long he's been inhabitin' the Raton +Pass, p'ints to the Spanish Peaks an' says, +'You see them em'nences? Well, when I +pitches camp in this yere gully them mountings +was two holes in the ground,' I don't feel like +he's lyin'. I merely remembers that he steals +the bluff from old Jim Bridger, grins an' lets +it go at that.</p> +<p>"Likewise, I'm sim'larly onaffected towards +that amiable multitoode who simply lies to entertain. +These yere latter sports in their preevar'cations +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span> +is public ben'factors. You-all can +spread yourse'f out in the ca'm shadow of their +yarns, same as if it's the shade of a tree, an' +find tharin reefreshment an' reepose.</p> +<p>"While the most onimag'native of us, from +Peets to Cherokee, ain't none puny as conversationists, +the biggest liar, ondoubted, who ever +comes romancin' into Wolfville is Enright's +uncle, who visits him that time. Back in Tennessee +a passel of scientists makes what this +yere relative of Enright's deescribes as a 'Theological +Survey' of some waste land he has on +Gingham Mountain, an' finds coal. An' after +that he's rich. Thus, in his old age, but chipper +as a coopful of catbirds, he comes rackin' +into town, allowin' he'll take a last look at his +nephy, Sam, before he cashes in.</p> +<p>"His name is Stallins, bein' he's kin to Enright +on his mother's side, an' since thar's nine +ahead of him––Enright's mother bein' among +the first––an' he don't come along as a infant +ontil the heel of the domestic hunt that a-way, +he's only got it on Enright by ten years in the +matter of age.</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_4' id='linki_4'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-043.jpg' alt='' title='' width='392' height='605' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +<span style='font-size:smaller'>THE SECOND EVENING OLD STALLINS IS WITH US, DAN BOGGS AN' TEXAS THOMPSON UPLIFTS HIS AGED SPERITS WITH THE "LOVE DANCE OF THE CATAMOUNTS." <i>p.</i> 43.</span><br /> +</p> +</div> +<p>"No, I shore shouldn't hes'tate none to mention +him as a top-sawyer among liars, the same +bein' his constant boast an' brag. He accepts +the term as embodyin' a compliment, an' the +quick way to get his bristles up is to su'gest +that his genius for mendac'ty is beginnin' to +bog down.</p> +<p>"For all that, Enright imparts to me, private, +that the old gent as a liar ain't a marker +to his former se'f.</p> +<p>"'You've heard tell,' Enright says, 'of +neighborhood liars, an' township liars, an' +county liars; an' mebby even of liars whose +fame as sech might fill the frontiers of a state. +Take my uncle, say forty years ago, an' give +him the right allowance of baldface whiskey, +an' the coast-to-coast expansiveness of them +fictions he tosses off shore entitles him to +the name of champion of the nation. Compar'd +to him, Ananias is but a ambitious +amatoor.'</p> +<p>"It's the second evenin' old Stallins is with +us, an' Enright takes him over to Hamilton's +Dance Hall, whar Boggs an' Texas––by partic'lar +reequest––uplifts his aged sperits with +that y'ear-splittin' an' toomultuous minyooet, +the 'Love Dance of the Catamounts.' Which +the exh'bition sets his mem'ry to millin', an' +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span> +when we gets back to the Red Light he breaks +out remin'scent.</p> +<p>"'Sammy,' he says to Enright, 'you was old +enough to rec'llect when I has that location +over on the upper Hawgthief? Gents,' he goes +on, turnin' to us, 'it's a six-forty, an'––side +hill, swamp an' bottom––as good a section +as any to be crossed up with between the +Painted Post an' the 'Possum Trot. It's that +"Love Dance of the Catamounts" which brings +it to my mind, since it's then an' thar, by virchoo +of a catamount, I wins my Sarah Ann.</p> +<p>"'She's shore the star-eyed Venus of the +Cumberland, is my Sarah Ann. Her ha'r, +black as paint, is as thick as a pony's mane; +her lips is the color of pokeberry juice; her +cheeks––round an' soft––is as cl'ar an' bright +an' glowin' as a sunset in Jooly; her teeth is +as milk-white as the inside of a persimmon +seed. She's five-foot-eleven without her +mocassins, stands as up an' down as a pine tree, +got a arm on her like the tiller of a scow, an' +can heft a full-sized side of beef an' hang it +on the hook. That's fifty years ago. She's +back home on the Hawgthief waitin' for me +now, my Sarah Ann is. You'd say she's as +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span> +gray as a 'possum, an' as wrinkled as a burnt +boot. Mebby so; but not to me, you bet. +She's allers an' ever to me the same endoorin' +hooman sunburst I co'tes an' marries that long +time ago.'</p> +<p>"Old Stallins pauses to reefresh himse'f, an' +Texas, who's been fidgetin' an' frettin' since +the first mention of Sarah Ann, goes whisperin' +to Boggs.</p> +<p>"'Can't some of you-all,' he says, plenty +peevish, 'head this yere mushy old tarrapin off? +This outfit knows what I suffers with that +Laredo wife of mine. An' yet it looks like +I'm to be tortured constant with tales of married +folks, an' not one hand stretched out to +save me from them reecitals.'</p> +<p>"'Brace up,' returns Boggs, tryin' to comfort +him. 'Thicken your hide ag'in sech childish +feelin's, an' don't be so easy pierced. Besides, +I reckons the worst's over. He's comin' +now to them catamounts.'</p> +<p>"Texas grinds his teeth, an' old Stallins resoomes +his adventures.</p> +<p>"'My Sarah Ann's old pap has his location +jest across the Hawgthief from me. Besides +him an' Sarah Ann, thar ain't nobody but the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span> +old woman in the fam'ly, the balance of 'em +havin' been swept away in a freshet. Shore, +old man Bender––that's Sarah Ann's pap's +name––has fourteen children once, Sarah Ann, +who's oldest, bein' the first chicken on the domestic +roost. But the other thirteen is carried +off one evenin' when, what with the rains an' +what with the snow meltin' back on Gingham +Mountain, the Hawgthief gets its back up. +Swish comes a big wave of water, an' you hear +me them children goes coughin' an' kickin' an' +splutterin' into the misty beyond.</p> +<p>"'Which I says thirteen only because that's +whar old Bender allers puts his loss. Zeb +Stiles, who lives on the Painted Post, insists +that it's fifteen who gets swept away that time. +He allows he counts them infant Benders two +evenin's before, perched along on old Bender's +palin's like pigeons on a limb. Thirteen or +fifteen, however, it don't make no difference +much, once they're submerged, that a-way.</p> +<p>"'Mebby I've been co'tin' my Sarah Ann +for goin' on six months, givin' her b'ar robes +an' mink pelts, with now an' then a pa'r of +bald eagle wings to bresh the hearth. Nothin' +heart-movin', however, comes off between us, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span> +Sarah Ann keepin' me at arm's len'th an' +comportin' herse'f plumb uppish, as a maiden +should. She's right; a likely girl can't be too +conserv'tive techin' what young an' boundin' +bucks comes co'tin' at her house.</p> +<p>"'Old Bender sort o' likes me in streaks. +After he gets bereft of them thirteen or fifteen +offspring he turns morose a whole lot, an' +I used to go 'cross in my dugout an' cheer him +up with my lies.</p> +<p>"'Could I lie?</p> +<p>"'My nephy, Sammy, thar'll nar'ate how I +once lies a full-grown b'ar to death. The cunnin' +varmint takes advantage of me bein' without +my weepons, an' chases me up a tree. I +ensconces myse'f in the crotch, an' when the +b'ar starts to climb I hurls down ontrooth after +ontrooth on top of him ontill, beneath a avalanche +of falsehood, he's crushed dead at the +base of the tree. Could I lie, you asks? Even +folks who don't like me concedes that I'm the +most irresist'ble liar south of the Ohio river.</p> +<p>"'While I'm upliftin' the feelin's of old +Bender mendacious that a-way, he likes me; +it's only when we gets to kyard-playin' he +waxes sour. He's a master-hand to gamble, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span> +old Bender is, an' as shore as I shows up, followin' +a lie or two, he's bound he'll play me +seven-up for a crock of baldface whiskey. +Now thar ain't a sport from the Knobs of old +Knox to the Mississippi who could make seed +corn off me at seven-up, an' nacherally I beats +old Bender out of the baldface.</p> +<p>"'With that he'd rave an' t'ar, an' make like +he's goin' to jump for his 8-squar' Hawkins +rifle, whar she's hangin' on a pa'r of antlers +over the door; but he'd content himse'f final +by orderin' me out of the shack, sayin' that no +sech kyard-sharpin' galoot as me need come +pesterin' 'round allowin' to marry no child of +his'n. At sech eepocks, too, it looks like Sarah +Ann sees things through the eyes of her old +man, an' she's more'n common icy.</p> +<p>"'One day old Bender goes weavin' over to +Pineknot, an' starts to tradin' hosses with Zeb +Stiles. They seesaws away for hours, an' old +Bender absorbs about two dollars' worth of +licker, still-house rates. In the finish Zeb does +him brown an' does him black on the swap, so +it don't astonish nobody to death when next +day he quiles up in his blankets sick. Marm +Bender tries rekiverin' him with yarbs, an' +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span> +kumfrey tea, an' sweet gum sa'v. When them +rem'dies proves footile she decides that perhaps +a frolic'll fetch him.</p> +<p>"'It's about second drink time in the afternoon +when Marm Bender starts out Fiddler +Abe, givin' notice of the treat. I hears the old +nigger as, mule-back, he goes meanderin' +along, singin':</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>Thar's a smoke house full of bacon,<br /> +An' a barrel full of rum.<br /> +For to eat an' drink an' shake a laig<br /> +You've only got to come.</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>"'As soon as Fiddler Abe starts singin' the +girls an' boys begin comin' out of the woods +like red ants out of a burnin' log, headin' hotfoot +for old Bender's.</p> +<p>"'Do I go?</p> +<p>"'It ain't a hour after candle lightin' when, +with mebby it's a pint of baldface onder the +buckle of my belt, I'm jumpin' higher, shoutin' +louder, an' doin' more to loosen the puncheons +in the floor than any four males of my +species who's present at that merry-makin'. +It he'ps old Bender, too, an' inspired by the +company an' onder the inflooence of four or +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span> +five stiff toddies, he resolves not to let that +hoss trade carry him to a ontimely grave, an' +is sittin' up in his blankets, yellin', "Wake +snakes; an' Gin'ral Jackson fit the Injuns!" +in happy accord with the sperit of his times.</p> +<p>"'Fiddler Abe strikes into the exyooberant +strains of "Little Black Bull Come Down the +Mountains," an' I hauls Ten-spot Mollie out +of the gin'ral ruck of calico for a reel. We +calls her Ten-spot Mollie because she's got five +freckles on each cheek. All the same, when it +comes to dancin', she's shore a she-steamboat. +Every time we swings she hefts me plumb free +of the floor, an' bats my heels ag'in the rafters +ontil both ankles is sprained.</p> +<p>"'Sarah Ann falls jealous, seem' me an' +Ten-spot Mollie thus pleasantly engaged, an' +to get even goes to simperin' an' talkin' giggle-talk +to Mart Jenkins, who's rid in from Rapid +Run. Jenks is a offensive numbskull who's +wormed his way into soci'ty by lickin' all the +boys 'round his side of Gingham Mountain. +At that, he's merely tol'rated.</p> +<p>"'Seein' Sarah Ann philanderin' with +Jenks, I lets go of Ten-spot Mollie, who goes +raspin' an' rollin' into a corner some abrupt, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span> +an' sa'nters across to whar they're at. Leanin' +over Sarah Ann's off-shoulder, bein' the one +furthest from that onmitigated Jenks, I says, +"Sweetheart, how can you waste time talkin' +to this yere hooman Sahara, whose intellects +is that sterile they wouldn't raise cow-pease?"</p> +<p>"'This makes Jenks oneasy, an' getting up, +he reemarks, "Dick Stallins, I'll be the all-firedest +obleeged to you if you'll attend on me +to the foot of the hollow, an' bring your instrooments."</p> +<p>"'At this I explains that I ain't got my instrooments +with me, havin' left both rifle an' +bowie in the dugout when I paddles over to +the dance.</p> +<p>"'Jenks makes a insultin' gesture, an' reetorts, +"Don't crawl, Dick Stallins. Borry old +Bender's nine-inch bootcher, an' come with +me."</p> +<p>"'To appease him I says I will, an' that I'll +j'ine him at the before named slaughter-ground +in the flicker of a lamb's tail. Jenks +stalks off plumb satisfied, while I searches out +Ben Hazlett, an' whispers that Jenks is askin' +for him some urgent, an' has gone down the +trace towards the foot of the hollow to look +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span> +him up. Nacherally, my diplom'cy in this yere +behalf sends Ben cavortin' after Jenks; an' +this relieves me a heap, knowin' that all Jenks +wants is a fight, an' Ben'll do him jest as well +as me.</p> +<p>"'Which them was shorely happy days!' he +continyoos, settin' down the bottle wharwith +he's been encouragin' his faculties. 'Troo, +every gent has to sleep with his head in a iron +kettle for fear of Injuns, an' a hundred dollars +is bigger'n a cord of wood, but life is +plenty blissful jest the same.'</p> +<p>"'Was you afraid of this yere Jenks?' asks +Boggs.</p> +<p>"'No more'n if he's a streak of lightnin'. +Only, I've got on a new huntin' shirt, made of +green blanket cloth, an' I ain't none strenuous +about havin' that gyarment all slashed up.</p> +<p>"'To proceed: After I dispatches Ben on +the heels of Jenks that a-way it occurs to me +that mebby I'm sort o' tired with the labors of +the evenin', an' I'll find my dugout, ferry myse'f +over to my own proper wickyup, an' hit the +hay for a snooze. I'm some hurried to the concloosion +by the way in which eevents begins +to accumyoolate in my immedyit vicin'ty. Bill +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span> +Wheeler announces without a word of warnin' +that he's a flyin' alligator, besides advancin' +the theery that Gene Hemphill is about as deeserv'dly +pop'lar as a abolitionist in South +Caroliny. I suspects that this attitoode of +mind on Bill's part is likely to provoke discussion, +which suspicion is confirmed when Gene +knocks Bill down, an' boots him into the dooryard. +Once in the open, after a clout or two, +Gene an' Bill goes to a clinch an' the fightin' +begins.</p> +<p>"'It ain't no time when the circumf'rence of +trouble spreads. Bud Ingalls makes a pass at +me pers'nal, an' by way of reeprisal I smashes +a stewpan on him. Bud's head goes through +the bottom, like the clown through them paper +hoops in a cirkus, the stewpan fittin' down +'round his neck same as one of them Elizbethan +ruffs. The stewpan ockyoopies so +much of Bud's attention that I gets impatient, +an' so, tellin' him I ain't got no time to wait, +I leaves him strugglin' with that yootensil, an' +strolls off down to the Hawgthief whistlin' +"Sandy Land."</p> +<p>"'It's dark as the inside of a cow, an' somehow +I misses the dugout; but bein' stubborn, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span> +an' plumb sot about gettin' home, I wades in +an' begins to swim. The old Hawgthief is +bank full, but I'd have made t'other side all +right if it ain't that, as I swims out from onder +the overhangin' branch of a tree, somethin' +drops into the water behind me, an' comes +snarlin' an' splashin' an' spittin' along in pursoote. +I don't pay much heed at the jump, but +when it claws off my nigh moccasin, leavin' a +inch-deep gash in my heel, I glances back an' +perceives by the two green eyes that I've become +an object of comsoomin' int'rest to a +pa'nter, or what you-all out yere calls a mountain +lion, an' we-uns back in Tennessee a catamount.'</p> +<p>"'But a panther won't swim,' reemonstrates +Tutt.</p> +<p>"'Arizona catamounts won't,' returns old +Stallins, 'thar bein' no rivers to speak of. But +in Tennessee, whar thar's rivers to waste, them +cats takes to the water like so many muskrats.</p> +<p>"'When I finds that thar's nothin' doggin' +me but a catamount, I heads all casyooal for +whar a tree's done been lodged midstream, +merely flingin' the reemark over my shoulder +to the catamount that, if he keeps on annoyin' +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span> +me, he'll about pick up the makin's of a maulin'. +As I crawls out on the bole of the lodged +tree, I can hear the catamount sniggerin', same +as if he's laughin' me to scorn, an' this yere +insultin' contoomely half-way makes me mad. +Which I ain't in the habit of bein' took lightly +by no catamount.</p> +<p>"'Drawin' myse'f out o' the water, I straddles +the bole of my tree, an' organizes for the +catamount, who's already crawlin' after me. +T'arin' off a convenient bough the thickness +of your laig, I arranges myse'f as a reeception +committee for visitin' catamounts, an' by way +of beginnin' confers on my partic'lar anamile +sech a bat over the snout that he falls back into +the drink, an' starts to swimmin' fancy an' +goin' 'round in circles, same as if his funny-bone's +been teched.</p> +<p>"'Every time he gets in reach I jabs him in +the eye with the splinter end of the bough, an' +at last he grows that disgusted at these formal'ties +he swims off to the bank. Thar he +camps down on his ha'nches, an' glares green-eyed +at me across the ragin' flood.</p> +<p>"'Shore, I could have raised the long yell +for he'p, but am withheld by foolish pride. Besides, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span> +I can hear Ben an' Jenks tusslin' an' +gruntin' an' carryin' on over in the mouth of +the hollow, as they kyarves into each other with +their knives, an' don't want to distract their +attention.</p> +<p>"'As I sets camped thar on my lodged tree, +an' the catamount is planted on the bank, I +hears the lippin' splash of a paddle, an' then a +voice which sounds like a chime of bells floats +across to ask, "Dick Stallins, you ornery runnigate, +wharever be you?"</p> +<p>"'It's my Sarah Ann, whose love, gettin' +the upper hand of maidenly reeserve, has sent +her projectin' 'round in search of me. She's +in my dugout.</p> +<p>"'The catamount identifies her as soon as +me; an' thinkin' she ought to be easy, he slides +into the water ag'in an' starts for the boat. +It's that dark I ain't shore of his deesigns ontil +I sees him reach up, tip the dugout over, an' +set Sarah Ann to wallowin' in the rushin' torrent. +The dugout upsets on the catamount, +an' this so confooses him that, by the time he's +got his bearin's, Sarah Ann's been swept down +to my tree, an' I've lifted her to a seat by my +side. The catamount don't try to lay siege to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span> +our p'sition, recognizing it as impregnable, but +paddles back to the shore an' goes into watchful +camp as prior.</p> +<p>"'For myse'f, I'm so elevated with love an' +affection at havin' Sarah Ann with me, I dismisses +the catamount as a dead issue, an' as +sech beneath contempt, an' by way of mollifyin' +Sarah Ann's feelin's, cuts loose an' kisses +her a gross or two of times, an' each like the +crack of a bull-whacker's whip.</p> +<p>"'Old Bender hears them caresses plumb up +to his house––as well he may, they're that onreeserved +an' earnest––an' thinks it's some one +shootin' a rifle. It has the effect of bringin' +out the old Spartan with his Hawkins; an' the +first word of it that reaches me an' Sarah Ann +is him, Marm Bender an' the whole b'ilin' of +folks is down thar on the bank, tryin' to make +out in the gen'ral dimness whatever be we-all +lovers doin' out thar in the middle of the +Hawgthief on a snag.</p> +<p>"'They don't deetect my catamount none, +which sagacious feline slinks off into the shadows +covered with confoosion; all they sees is us. +An' the spectacle certainly excites old Bender. +"Gen'ral Jackson fit the Injuns!" he exclaims, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span> +as all of a sudden a thought strikes him; "that +measly excoose for a Union Democrat out thar +is seekin' to eelope with our Sarah Ann."</p> +<p>"'The old murderer starts to get a bead on +me with the Hawkins. "Father," yells Marm +Bender, pullin' at his sleeve, "you shore must +be mistook."</p> +<p>"'Old Bender won't have it. "Maw," he +returns, strivin' to disengage himse'f, "I was +never mistook about nothin' in my life but +once, an' that's when I shifts from baldface +whiskey to hard cider on a temp'rance argyooment. +Let me go, woman, till I drill the miscreant +an' wash the stain from our fam'ly +honor."</p> +<p>"'Before the old hom'cide can get to launderin' +the fam'ly honor in my blood, however, +Sarah Ann has interposed. "Don't go to blazing +away at my Dickey, pop," she sings out, +"or I'll shore burn every improvement you got, +an' leave you an' maw an' me roofless in the +midst of the wilderness."</p> +<p>"'This goes a long way towards soberin' +down old Bender, because he knows my Sarah +Ann's the Cumberland hollyhock to put them +menaces into execootion. He lowers the muzzle +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span> +of his old 8-squar', an' allows if I promises +to marry the girl I can swim ashore an' be forgiven.</p> +<p>"'Thus the matter ends mighty amic'ble. +We'all goes trackin' up to the house, a preacher +is rushed to the scene from Pineknot, an' them +nuptials between Sarah Ann an' me is sol'mnized. +Shore, Jenks an' Ben is thar. They're +found by a committee of their friends scattered +about at the foot of the hollow, an' is +collected an' brought up to the weddin' in +blankets. Dave Daniels, who surveys the scene +next day, says you could plant corn whar they +fit, it's that plowed up.</p> +<p>"'Followin' the cer'mony Marm Bender an' +the old gent takes me into their hearts an' +cabin like I'm their own an' only son. He's +a great old daddy-in-law, old Bender is, an' +is ven'rated for forty miles about Gingham +Mountain, as deevoted heart an' soul to baldface, +seven-up an' sin in any shape.</p> +<p>"'That match-makin' catamount?</p> +<p>"'We hives him. Me an' my new daddy-in-law +tracks him to his reetreat, an' when we're +through he's plumb used up. I confers the +pelt on my Sarah Ann; an' she spreads it on +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span> +the floor over by her side of the bed, so as to +put her little number sevens on it when she +boils out of a winter's mornin' to light the fire, +an' rustle me my matoot'nal buckwheat cakes +an' sa'sage.'"</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span> +<a name='III_CYNTHIANA_PETNAMED_ORIGINAL_SIN' id='III_CYNTHIANA_PETNAMED_ORIGINAL_SIN'></a> +<h2>III</h2> +<h3>CYNTHIANA, PET-NAMED ORIGINAL SIN</h3> +</div> +<p>"This yere speecific heroine is a heap onconventional, +so much so as to be plumb puzzlin' +to the common mind. Jest the same, she finishes +winner, an' makes herse'f a gen'ral source +of pride. She don't notify us, none whatever, +that she intends a Wolfville deboo; jest nacherally +descends upon us, that a-way, as onannounced +as a mink on a settin' hen. All the +same, we knows she's comin' while yet she's +five mile out on the trail. Not that we savvys +who she is or what she aims at; we merely gets +moved up next to the fact that she's a lady, an' +likewise no slouch for looks.</p> +<p>"We reads these yere trooths in the dust old +Monte kicks up, as he comes swingin' in with +the stage. Which it's the weakness of this inebriate, +as I tells you former, that once let him +get a lady aboard, it looks like it's a signal for +him to go pourin' the leather into his team like +he ain't got a minute to live. It's a p'lite attention +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span> +he assoomes, in his besotted way, is doo +the sex.</p> +<p>"It's the more strange, too, since it's the +only attention Monte ever pays 'em. He never +looks at 'em, never speaks to 'em; simply plants +himse'f on the box, as up an' down as a cow's +tail, an' t'ars into them harassed hosses. If +the lady he's complimentin' that a-way was to +get jolted overboard––which the same wouldn't +be no mir'cal, considerin' how that dipsomaniac +drives––it's even money he leaves her hunched +up like a jack-rabbit alongside the trail, an' +never thinks of stoppin' or turnin' back. He's +merely a drunkard with that one fool idee of +showin' off, an' nothin' the stage people's ever +able to say can teach him different. From +first to last you-all could measure Monte's +notion of the pulcritoode of a petticoat passenger +by the extent to which he lams loose with +his whip. Given what he deems is a she-sunburst, +he shorely does maltreat the company's +live stock shameful.</p> +<p>"'If,' observes Peets, as a bunch of us stands +gossipin' round in front of the Red Light that +time, watchin' the dust cloud draw nearer an' +nearer––'if it's poss'ble to imagine the old sot +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span> +as havin' a Cleopatra to freight over from Tucson, +it's a cow pony to a Mexican sheep he'd +kill one of the wheelers.'</p> +<p>"Thar ain't none of us knows who this yere +Cleopatra the Doc refers to is, onless it's Colonel +Sterett, who edits the <i>Daily Coyote</i>. Still, +the compar'son is plenty convincin'. Accordin' +to the Doc himself, this Cleopatra's a meteoric +female party, as lively as she is lovely, +who sets a passel of ancient sports to walkin' +in a cirkle back some'ers in the mists of time. +Also, it's bloo chips to white, an' bet 'em higher +than a cat's back, the Doc knows. The Doc +is ondoubted the best eddicated gent that ever +makes a moccasin track between Yuma an' the +Raton Pass, an' when he onbuckles techin' +any historic feachures, you can call for a gooseha'r +pillow, an' go to sleep on it he ain't barkin' +at no knot.</p> +<p>"Thar's a feeble form of young tenderfoot +pesterin' about the suburbs of the crowd. He's +one of them hooman deficits, so plumb ornery +as to be useless East, which their fam'lies, in +gettin' rid of 'em, saws happ'ly off onto a onprotected +West. This partic'lar racial disaster's +been on our hands now mebbe it's six +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span> +months, an' we-all is hopin' that in some p'intless +sort o' way he'll brace up and do overt +acts which entitles us to stampede him out of +camp. But so far he don't.</p> +<p>"This yere exile comes wanderin' into the +talk by askin'––his voice as thin as a curlew's:</p> +<p>"'Who is this old Monte you're alloodin' +at?'</p> +<p>"'Whoever he is?' says Boggs. 'Which if +you-all'd struck camp by way of Tucson, instead +of skulkin' upon us in the low-down fashion +you does along of the Lordsburg-Red Dog +buckboard, you wouldn't have to ask none. +He's the offishul drunkard of Arizona, Monte +is. Which the same should be notice, too, that +it's futile for you to go ropin' at that p'sition. +I says this, since from the quantity of Old Jordan +you've been mowin' away, I more'n half +infers that you nourishes designs upon the +place.'</p> +<p>"The feeble young shorthorn smiles a puny +smile, and don't lunge forth into no more +queries.</p> +<p>"Texas, who's been listenin' to what Boggs +says, squar's 'round an' half-way erects his +crest for an argyooment. Texas has had marital +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span> +troubles, an' him ponderin' the same constant +renders him some morbid an' morose.</p> +<p>"'From your tone of voice, Dan,' remarks +Texas, 'I takes it you holds Monte's appetite +for nose paint to be a deefect. That's whar +I differs. That old marauder is a drunkard +through sheer excess of guile. He finds in +alcohol his ark of refooge. I only wish I'd +took to whiskey in my 'teens.'</p> +<p>"Boggs is amazed.</p> +<p>"'Texas,' he says, plenty sorrowful, 'it +wouldn't astonish me none if you finds your +finish in a wickeyup deevoted to loonatics, +playin' with a string of spools.'</p> +<p>"'That's your onthinkin' way. Do you +reckon now, if I'd been a slave to drink when +that Laredo wife of mine first sees me, she'd +have w'irled me to the altar an' made me the +blighted longhorn you sees now? She wouldn't +have let me get near enough to her to give her +a bunch of grapes. It's my sobri'ty that's my +ondoin', that an' bein' plumb moral. Which +I onerringly traces them divorce troubles, an' +her sellin' up my stock at public vandoo for +cost an' al'mony like she does, to me weakly +holdin' aloof from whisky when I'm young.'</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span></div> +<p>"'Which I shore,'––an' Boggs shows he's +mighty peevish an' put out––'never meets up +with a more exasp'ratin' conversationist! It's +because you're sech an' egreegious egotist! +You-all can't talk ten minutes, Texas, but +what you're allers bringin' in them domestic +affairs of yours. If you desires to discuss +whiskey abstract, an' from what the Doc thar +calls a academic standp'int, I'm your gent. +But I declines to be drug into personal'ties, +in considerin' which I might be carried by the +heat of deebate to whar I gets myse'f shot up.'</p> +<p>"'I sees your attitood, Dan; I sees your attitood, +an' respects it. Jest the same, thar's +an anti-nuptial side to the liquor question, an' +bein' a drunkard that a-way is not without its +compensations.'</p> +<p>"'But he's bound to be so blurred,' reemonstrates +Boggs, who by nacher is dispootatious, +an' once started prone to swing an' rattle with +a topic like a pup to a pig's y'ear: 'That +drunkard is so plumb blurred.'</p> +<p>"'Blurred but free, Dan,' retorts Texas, +mighty firm. 'Don't overlook no sech bet as +that drunkard bein' free. Also, it's better to +be free than sober.'</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span></div> +<p>"'Goin' back to Monte,' says Boggs, returning +to the orig'nal text; 'half the time, over +to the O.K. Restauraw when Missis Rucker +slams him down his chuck, he ain't none shore +he's eatin' flapjacks or rattlesnakes. The other +day, when Rucker drops a plate, he jumps +three feet in the air, throws up his hands an' +yells, "Take the express box, gents, but spar' +my life!" It's whiskey does it. The old cimmaron +thinks it's road agents stickin' him up.'</p> +<p>"Dispoote is only ended by the stage thunderin' +in––leathers creakin', chains jinglin', +bosses a lather of sweat an' alkali dust, Monte +cocked up on the box as austere as a treeful +of owls. He's for openin' the door, but Peets +is thar before him. Let it get dealt down to +showin' attentions to a lady, an' the briskest +sport'll have to move some sudden, or the +Doc'll beat him to it. Which he certainly is +the p'litest drug sharp of which hist'ry makes +mention!</p> +<p>"The Doc offers his hand to he'p her out, +but she hits the ground onaided as light as any +leaf. Nacherally we looks her over. Take her +from foretop to fetlocks, she's as lovely as a +diamond flush. She's got corn-colored ha'r, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span> +an' eyes as soft as the sky in Joone. Peets +calls 'em azure––bein' romantic. As for the +rest of us, we don't call 'em nothin'. Thar's a +sprightly look about 'em, which would shore +jestify any semi-proodent gent in jumpin' +sideways. Likewise, she's packin' a Colt's .45, +an' clutchin' a winchester in her little claw, +the same contreebutin' a whole lot toward makin' +her impressive as a pageant.</p> +<p>"'How are you, sports?' she says, tossin' her +disengaged hand a heap arch. 'I gets word +about you-all up in Vegas, an' allows I'll come +trundlin' down yere an' size you up. My idee +is you needs regen'ratin'.'</p> +<p>"'Is thar anything we-all can he'p you to, +Miss?' asks Enright, who takes the play away +from Peets. 'If aught is wanted, an' thar's a +lariat in the outfit long enough to reach, you-all +can trust Wolfville to rope, throw an' hawg-tie +the same accordin' to your wishes.'</p> +<p>"'Yes,' adds Peets, 'as Sam says, if thar's +any little way we-all can serve you, Miss, jest +say the word. Likewise, if you don't feel like +speakin', make signs; an' if you objects to +makin' signs, shake a bush. All we reequires +is the slightest hint.'</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span></div> +<p>"'Be ca'm,' says the young lady, her manner +as se'f-confident as if she's a queen. 'Thar's +nothin' demanded of you outlaws except to +tamely listen. I'm a se'f-respectin', se'f-supportin' +young female, who believes in Woman +Suffrage, an' the equality of the sexes in pol'tics +an' property rights. Which my name is +Bark, baptized Cynthiana, the same redooced +by my old pap, while yet alive, into the pet +name of Original Sin. It's my present purpose +to become a citizen of this yere camp, an' +take my ontrammeled place in its commercial +life by openin' a grogshop. Pendin' which, do +you-all see this?'––an' she dallies gently with +a fringe of b'ar-claws she's wearin' as a necklace, +the same bein' in loo of beads. 'That +grizzly's as big an' ugly as him.' Yere she +tosses a rose-leaf hand at Boggs, who breaks +into a profoose sweat. 'I downs him. Also, +I'll send the first horned-toad among you, who +pays me any flagrant attentions, pirootin' after +that b'ar. Don't forget, gents: my name's +Bark, Cynthiana Bark, pet-named Original +Sin, an' thar's a bite goes with the Bark.'</p> +<p>"Havin' conclooded this yere salootatory, +Miss Bark, givin' a coquettish flourish to her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span> +winchester, goes trapsein' over to the O. K. +Restauraw, leavin' us––as the story-writer puts +it––glooed to the spot. You see it ain't been +yoosual for us to cross up with ladies who, +never waitin' for us to so much as bat an admirin' +eye or wag an adorin' y'ear, opens neegotations +by threatenin' to shoot us in two.</p> +<p>"'Thar's a young lady,' says Peets, who's +first to ketch his breath, 'that's got what I calls +<i>verve</i>.'</p> +<p>"'Admittin' which,' observes Enright, some +doubtful, havin' been thrown back on his hocks +a whole lot; 'some of you-all young bucks must +none the less have looked at her in a improper +way to start her ghost-dancin' like she does.'</p> +<p>"Enright's eye roves inquirin'ly from Boggs +to Texas, an' even takes in Tutt.</p> +<p>"'Not me!' declar's Texas, plenty fervent; +'not me!––more'n if she's a she rattlesnake!'</p> +<p>"'As the husband of Tucson Jennie,' observes +Tutt, his air some haughty––which he +allers puts on no end of dog whenever he mentions +his fam'ly––'as the husband of Tucson +Jennie, an' the ondoubted father of that public +ornament an' blessin', little Enright Peets +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span> +Tutt, I do not regyard it as up to me to cl'ar +myse'f of no sech charges.'</p> +<p>"'Sam,' says Boggs, his voice reproachful, +'you notes how she makes invidious compar'sons +between me an' that b'ar, an' how she +beefs the b'ar? After which gratooitous slur +it's preeposterous to s'ppose I'd go admirin' +her or to takin' any chances.'</p> +<p>"'Then it's you,' says Enright, comin' round +on the puny tenderfoot. 'Jack,' he continyoos, +appealin' to Jack Moore, who's kettle-tender +to the Stranglers, of which arm of jestice Enright +is chief––'Jack, do you reemark any ontoward +looks or leers on the part of this yere +partic'lar prairie dog, calc'lated to alarm a +maiden of fastidious feelin's?'</p> +<p>"'Sir,' breaks in the feeble young tenderfoot, +an' all mighty tremyoolous, 'as shore as +my name is Oscar Freelinghuysen I never even +glances at that girl. I ain't so much as present +while she's issuin' her deefiances. I lapses into +the Red Light the moment I observes how she's +equipped, an' Black Jack, the barkeep, will +ver'fy my words.'</p> +<p>"'All right,' warns Enright, plumb severe, +'you be careful an' conduct yourself deecorous. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span> +Wolfville is a moral camp. Thar's things +done every day an' approved of in Noo York +which'd get a gent downed in Wolfville.'</p> +<p>"'That Miss Bark mentions she's Woman +Suffrage, Sam?' observes Boggs, in a questionin' +way, as we stands sloppin' out a recooperative +forty drops in the Red Light.</p> +<p>"'Shore!' replies Enright. 'The Doc yere +can tell you all about 'em. As I onderstands, +they're a warlike bevy of women who voylently +resents not bein' born men. Thar's one thing, +however; I sincerely trusts that none of you +young sports'll prove that forward an' onwary +as to go callin' her by her pet name of Original +Sin. Which she might take advantage of it. +Them exponents of women's rights is plumb +full of the onexpected, that a-way, an' it's my +belief that all who ain't honin' to commit sooicide'll +be careful an' address her as Miss +Bark.'</p> +<p>"'Be they many of that Woman Suffrage +brand?' persists Boggs.</p> +<p>"'Herds of 'em,' chips in Peets. 'The Eastern +ranges is alive with 'em. But they don't +last. As a roole they gets married, an' that's +gen'rally speakin' the end of their pernicious +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span> +activ'ties. Wedlock is a heap apt to knock +their horns off.'</p> +<p>"Faro Nell, Tucson Jennie an' Missis +Rucker don't take to this Miss Bark's Woman +Suffrage views.</p> +<p>"'She's welcome,' says the latter esteemable +cook an' matron, 'to her feelin's; but she +mustn't come preachin' no doctrine to me, +wharof the effects is to lower me to Rucker's +level. I've had trouble enough redoocin' that +ground-hawg to where he belongs, an' I ain't +goin' to sacrifice the work of years for no mere +sentiments.'</p> +<p>"'Which I shore agrees with you, Missis +Rucker,' says Nell, lookin' up from some +plum preeserves she's backin' off the noonday +board to consider Cherokee, who's settin' next; +'a woman has enough to do to boss one gent, +without tryin' to roole broadcast over whole +commoonities.'</p> +<p>"At this exchange of views Cherokee softly +grins like a sharp who can see his way through. +As for Rucker, who's waitin' on the table an' +packin' in viands from the kitchen, he takes +it as sullen as a sorehead dog. Personal, I +ain't got no use for Rucker; but between us, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span> +Missis Rucker, one way an' another, does certainly +oppress him grievous.</p> +<p>"Before the week is out we knows a lot more +about Miss Bark than we does when she first +comes prancin' out upon us from Monte's +stage. Not that thar's aught ag'inst the lady. +It's doo to Enright, who begins recollectin' +things.</p> +<p>"'Which I knows her pop,' explains Enright, +'now my mem'ry's assertin' itse'f, I +knows him when he first comes bulgin' into the +Pecos Valley, eighteen years ago. This Original +Sin daughter an' her maw don't show +up none till later. Thar's no more innocent +form of tenderfoot than Bark ever comes +weavin' into the Southwest. He's that ignorantly +innocent, wild geese is as wise as serpents +to him. But he's full of a painstakin' +energy, all the same, an' mighty assidyoous +to learn.'</p> +<p>"'Whatever does he turn to?' asks Texas.</p> +<p>"'He hires out to a peach ranch. An' this'll +show you how industrious, that a-way, this +Bark tarrapin is. The peach ranch party has +a measly bunch of sheep. He keeps 'em +nights in a box-tight board corral, so's the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span> +coyotes can't get to mingle with 'em none. +Days he throws 'em loose to feed. The first +evenin' the peach ranch gent tells this yere +Bark to corral the sheep, an' then come in for +supper. "An' be shore," says the peach ranch +party, "you gets 'em all in."</p> +<p>"'An hour goes by, an' the peach ranch +party is about through his feed, when this yere +Bark drifts up to the table. His face is +flushed, but he's w'arin' a look of triumph. "I +hives 'em," says he, some exultant; "only one +lamb does shore force me to extend myse'f a +lot. I'll gamble I runs a hundred miles before +I rounds him up."</p> +<p>"'Next mornin' the peach ranch party goes +out to throw loose them sheep. As he cranes +his neck over the corral fence to count the +bunch he's amazed to see a jack-rabbit galumpin' +about among 'em. "Gin'ral Jackson fit the +English!" he exclaims; "however does that +jack-rabbit get himse'f mixed in with them +sheep?" An' he p'ints it out to Bark.</p> +<p>"'That ontootered person is all astonishment. +"Jack-rabbit!" says he. "Why, I hopes +next fall to vote the reepublican ticket an' die +disgraced if I don't put it down for a lamb! +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span> +That's the anamile which makes me run my +laigs off roundin' of him up!"'</p> +<p>"'Which, as you says, Sam,' reemarks Tutt, +signin' up to Black Jack to set out the bottles, +'in the face of sech a showin' that Bark party +must have been plenty ardent.'</p> +<p>"'I should shore yell!' coincides Boggs.</p> +<p>"'But he learns in time, of course?' questions +Nell.</p> +<p>"'Learns, Nellie?' repeats Enright; 'it ain't +three years before he identifies himse'f with the +life about him to that degree he bumps off two +kyard sharps who tries to cold-deck him in a +poker game, an' finds besides his steady employment +stealin' old John Chisholm's calves, +tharby assistin' in plantin' the toomultous seed +of what comes subsequent to be called the Lincoln +County War.'</p> +<p>"'What's the finish of this interestin' crim'nal?' +asks Cherokee.</p> +<p>"'Lynched,' returns Enright. 'They puts +him over the jump at Seven Rivers. You see +this Rattlesnake––they calls him Rattlesnake +Bark in them later years––is bunked down in +one of these yere jim-crow, barn-board hotels. +Thar's a resoundin' form of guest in the adjoinin' +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span> +room, snorin' to beat four kings an' a +ace. Rattlesnake tries poundin' on the partition, +an' sw'arin' at him, an' callin' him a +hoss thief. It's no avail. The snores of that +boarder sounds like sawin' planks, an' fa'rly +rocks the shack––they're that stormy. Final, +when Rattlesnake's burdens gets to be more'n +flesh an' blood can b'ar, he reaches for his .45, +an' bombards that sleeper good an' plenty +through the wall. It turns out it's the new +jedge. In the mornin', when this joorist is +discovered too dead to skin, the public is that +mortified it takes Rattlesnake out as soon +as breakfast's over, an' strings him to a +limb.'</p> +<p>"'Don't this pore Rattlesnake get no hearin'?' +asks Nell.</p> +<p>"'You see, Nellie,' Enright explains, 'what +with maverickin' the Chisholm calves, an' a +stage or two hold-up which p'ints to him, the +close season's been out as to this Rattlesnake +person for mighty like a year. Not but what +he might have made preperations. Thar's a +reeligious party present who asks Rattlesnake +if he wants to pray some. "Which you'll cross +the dark river all the easier," expounds the reeligious +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span> +gent. But Rattlesnake reefuses his +ministrations. "I'm what I be," he says; "an' +as for that dark river you refers to, I ain't +lookin' for no shallow ford."</p> +<p>"'This Rattlesnake,' continyoos Enright, 'is +willin' to learn to the last. It's his way. +Spring a new game on him an' he's out instanter +lookin' for information an' advice. +That's why he comes on so fast. Thar bein' +nothin' to stand him on for the purpose of +bein' lynched, the Stranglers posed Rattlesnake +a-top of a stack of hay, which is heaped +up onder the tree they're yootilizin'. When +the lariat is round his neck, an' he's disposed +of the reeligious party who attempts to turn +the business into a pra'r meetin', Rattlesnake +looks at the chief of the committee an' says, +"This yere bein' hanged from hay-cocks is +plumb new to me entire, an' tharfore I'm +obleeged to ask whether you-all expects me to +jump off or slide?"'</p> +<p>"'Well,' comments Jack Moore, drawin' a +deep breath, 'the old murderer's game––misguided, +mebby, but game.'</p> +<p>"'That may be as it may,' observes Boggs, +plenty thoughtful, 'but after all I regyards +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span> +these yere details which Sam onfurls as chiefly +valyooable as sheddin' a ray on this Miss Bark. +On the chance that she takes after her old man, +from now on I'm goin' to walk 'round her like +she's a swamp.'</p> +<p>"It's ten days after Miss Bark hits camp +that things begins to focus. An old Mexican, +the color of a blacksmith's apron, an' his wife, +who's the same prosaic tint, comes creakin' +along with a six-mule team––two wagons, lead +an' trail––loaded to the gyards with stock an' +fixtures. Said par'fernalia havin' arrived, +Miss Bark busts in the door of the old deserted +Lady Gay, an' takes possession. Armstrong, +who runs the Noo York store, is the owner of +the Lady Gay, but onder the circumstances he +allows it'd be the act of a barbarian to interfere.</p> +<p>"Besides, the attitoode of the young lady +herse'f is plumb discouragin'.</p> +<p>"'I'd shore admire,' she remarks, as, with +the aid of her Mexicans, she goes tossin' things +into p'sition, 'to see some male felon try to run +a bluff about him havin' title to this Lady Gay +structure, an' becomin' my landlord. Men +have tyrannized a heap too long as it is over +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span> +onprotected women, an' thar's one at least +who's took in patient silence all she will.'</p> +<p>"When Miss Bark's organized, she tacks up +over the door a sign which the painter at the +stage station preepar's. It reads:</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>VOTES FOR WOMEN SALOON</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>"'Only get it straight,' says Miss Bark when +she has us close-herded at chuck time in the +dinin' room of the O. K. Restauraw; 'I ain't +openin' this saloon none with a view to sordid +gain. I got money enough right now to buy +an' burn this yere deboshed town of Wolfville, +an' then prance over an' purchase an' apply +the torch to that equally abandoned outfit, Red +Dog. What I'm reachin' for is the p'litical +uplift of this camp. Recognizin' whiskey as +a permanency an' that saloons has come to +stay, I aims to show folks how them reesorts +should be run. I hopes to see the day when +every s'loon'll be in the hands of ladies. For +I holds that once woman controls the nosepaint +of the nation the ballot is bound to follow.'</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span></div> +<p>"Once it's started we-all manages to patronize +the Votes For Women S'loon for a +average of three drinks a day. Enright advises +it as safer.</p> +<p>"'Otherwise she might resent it,' explains +Enright, 'an' armed to the teeth like she is, an' +possessin' them perfervid idees, thar's no tellin' +whar she'd end.'</p> +<p>"None of us feels like hangin' out thar. The +atmosphere is too plumb formal. Besides, this +yere Miss Bark has rooles. No kyards is permitted; +an', moreover, you've got to go outdoors +to sw'ar. As to drinks, the soberest +among us can't get licker oftener than every +other time, while Monte can't get none at +all. That Votes For Women S'loon, considered +as a house of call, is, an' put it mildest, +certainly depressin'.</p> +<p>"When I speaks of us patronizin' Miss +Bark for three daily drinks, that a-way, thar's +exceptions. Monte, as I states, is barred by +the lady personal on the grounds of him +bein' a slave to drink; while Tutt is forbid by +Tucson Jennie. Tutt chafes some at them +mandates of Jennie's; but bein' keenly alive as +to what's comin' to her, as well as what she's +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span> +cap'ble of, in her triple rôle of woman, wife +an' mother, he yields.</p> +<p>"As for Texas, while he subscribes to them +three diurnal drinks, he allers insists that he +has company.</p> +<p>"'It's all right,' Texas'd say; 'I ain't intimatin' +that this Miss Bark goes cherishin' designs. +But it's my onbreakable roole, since +them divoice experiences, to never enter the +presence of onmarried ladies onless attended +by witnesses.'</p> +<p>"Owin' to which, some of us allers trails in +along with Texas when he visits the Votes For +Women S'loon. Even when thus protected +he onflaggin'ly confines his observations to +'Licker, Miss, please!' an' stops thar as dumb +as graven images. Once the licker's before +him he heaves it into himse'f same as if it's +drugs, an' instantly pulls his freight a heap +speedy, breathin' hard. An' all as scared as a +jack-rabbit that's heard the howl of a wolf.</p> +<p>"Does Miss Bark go proselytin' 'round concernin' +them Rights of Women? Which she +shore does! You may say she omits no opportoonity. +It's before Wolfville gets that effete +it mixes drinks, an' any one who knows +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span> +water from whiskey can 'tend bar. Wharfore, +Miss Bark stands watch an' watch with her old +Mexican, Pancho. The times she herse'f is +min'sterin' to our needs she's preachin' Woman +Suffrage incessant. Also, not bein' plumb +locoed, we bows in concord tharunto. Enright +an' Peets both concurs that it's the thing to +do, an' we does it.</p> +<p>"'Whatever difference does it make?' says +Enright; 'the price of steers remains the same, +three-of-a-kind continyoos to beat two pa'r, +thar's still fifty-two kyards in a faro deck, an' +every other law of nacher survives onteched. +My notion is to agree with this Miss Bark, +verbal, an' trust to Wolfville's onbeatable luck +to pull us through.'</p> +<p>"This counsel sounds good to us, an' we follows +it. When Miss Bark sets forth her woman's +rights fulm'nations along with her nosepaint, +we murmurs a hearty assent, an' drinks +down both impartial. Boggs, who's 'motional +an' easy worked on, even gets to whar he gives +it out he's actchooally a convert.</p> +<p>"Miss Bark has been on the map for mebby +it's a week, then thar occurs a eeposide which, +while it makes no profound impression, deceased +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span> +bein' a Mexican, shows she ain't packin' +her pap Rattlesnake's old Colt's .45 in a sperit +of facetiousness. It's about third drink time +one evenin' when thar's the dull roar of a gun +from over in the Votes For Women S'loon. +When we arrives we finds a dead greaser carelessly +quiled up near the door, an' Miss Bark +snappin' the empty shell out of her six-shooter.</p> +<p>"'He was roode,' is the only explanation +she vouchsafes; an' Enright, after lookin' at +Peets a spell, who's lookin' at the ceilin', says +it's s'fficient.</p> +<p>"'Only,' says Enright, when we're all back +safe in the Red Light, 'I sincerely trusts she +won't get her hindsights notched up to whar +she takes to bumpin' off <i>Americanos</i>. I shore +don't know whatever in sech case we could do, +vig'lance committees, in the very essence of +their construction, possessin' no joorisdiction +over ladies.'</p> +<p>"'That's right, Sam,' says Peets, plenty +grave; 'if it ever gets to whar this Miss Bark +turns her artillery loose on the camp permis'cus +the only hope left would be to adjourn Wolfville +<i>sine die</i>.'</p> +<p>"Miss Bark, however, never does grow +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span> +homicidal toward any of us, an' the only effect +of her puttin' that Mexican over is that it inclines +folks gen'ral to step high an' softly on +what occasions they're found plantigradin' +about in her s'ciety.</p> +<p>"One week, two weeks, three weeks goes by, +an' since a dead Mexican more or less ain't +calc'lated to leave no onefface'ble scars the incident +is all but forgot, when a second uprisin' +takes place in the Votes For Women S'loon. +This time it's that sickly curlew-voiced Oscar +who's the shriekin' center of eevents. Most of +us is jest filin' out of the O. K. Restauraw, +pickin' our teeth after our matootinal reepast, +when we beholds this yere Oscar boilin' fo'th +from the Votes For Women S'loon, all spraddled +out. As he goes t'arin' down the street +Miss Bark seelects a graceful p'sition in the +door, an' ca'mly pumps three loads at him out +of her winchester. When I says she pumps +them bullets at Oscar it's to be took conserv'tive; +for none of 'em hits him, but only tosses +up the dust about his flyin' feet. At the last +shot Oscar cripples down in a shiverin' heap; +an' with that Texas an' Boggs, not knowin' +the extent of his injuries, rolls him onto a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span> +blanket an' packs him to his room over at the +O. K. House, so's Peets can prospect his frame +all scientific locatin' the lead.</p> +<p>"Thar bein' no lead, as reelated, Peets reeports +final to that effect.</p> +<p>"'Only,' says Peets, 'he's scared up to sech +extents that if our Joan of Arc had dusted his +gaiters with so much as two more bullets he'd +have been beyond medical skill.'</p> +<p>"Followin' the foosilade Miss Bark sends +for Enright.</p> +<p>"'It's this way,' she goes on, when Enright +arrives. 'That shorthorn Oscar comes lurchin' +in, an' asks for nosepaint. As he stands thar, +puttin' it onder his belt––me meanwhile swabbin' +off the bar––he mentions that his paw's +rich, an' his step-maw's jest died, leavin' him +an' his paw alone. Then he calls attention to +the presence in camp of that strayed sky-pilot, +who preaches an' passes the hat the other evenin' +over in the wareroom of the Noo York +store. It's now, havin' got the bar tittivated +to my taste, I has time to look this Oscar person's +way, an' I finds him gloatin' over me in +form an' manner not to be mistook. "Whatever +be you leerin' at?" I deemands, bein' I'm +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span> +in no mood for insults. Tharupon, he cuts +loose a mouthful of platitoodes concernin' wedlock, +an' about me bein' the soul of his soul. +Havin' stood it a while, an' findin' my forbearance +makes him worse, I grabs my winchester +whar it's reposin' ready for eemergincies +on the dripboard, an' you knows the rest.'</p> +<p>"'With your free consent, Miss,' says Enright, +'I'd like to put one query. Was you +aimin' to down, or to simply skeer this Oscar?'</p> +<p>"'I was only skeerin' him up some,' replies +Miss Bark coyly. 'W'y, if I was reely out for +his skelp, I'd have shore got it a heap. You +can pin a patch the size of a dollar on that +disparin' lover's coat, an' I'll cut it nine times +in ten, offhand, at a hundred yards.'</p> +<p>"'Tests is not reequired,' Enright interposes, +plenty hasty; 'it's part of the organic law +of this yere camp that a lady's word, even +about her age, is to be took onchallenged.'</p> +<p>"'Which I'm flattered,' says Miss Bark. +'Now, is thar anything else?'</p> +<p>"'Only this,' returns Enright. 'As long as +he gives you cause, an' you can shoot like you +says, why ever don't you down him?'</p> +<p>"'Which I confesses,' says Miss Bark, a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span> +blush mantlin' her brow, 'that sech is my orig'nal +intentions when I reaches for my weepon. +But jest as I sees that Oscar through the sights +it comes upon me that thar's nothin' in bein' +preecip'tate, an' mebby I'd better give myse'f +the needed time to think his offer over.'</p> +<p>"Enright shakes his wisdom-freighted head; +when he relates his talk to Peets, the Doc +shakes his head sim'lar in sapient yoonison.</p> +<p>"'Which I'll bet a hatful of yellow chips,' +says Boggs, who's stood listenin', 'ag'inst a +handful of whites, that this yere Miss Bark +makes herse'f an' that Oscar shorthorn man an' +wife.'</p> +<p>"'Now I wouldn't wonder none,' observes +Peets, replyin' to the look in Enright's eye. +'That shootin' needn't count. A troo affection +is freequent boisterous, that a-way.'</p> +<p>"'An' in case,' says Enright, 'the kyards do +fall in favor of matrimony, it'll most likely be +the end of that Votes For Women S'loon. I +begins to see how this yere ongrateful outfit +may yet get deep in debt to that egreegious +Oscar.'</p> +<p>"None of us ever says so, but it's the common +belief that Texas connives at this yere +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span> +threatened Oscar's escape. In any case, the +next mornin' Oscar goes catfoot out of the O. +K. House before folks is up, an' takes to hidin' +out. The fact is he's layin' for Monte +an' the stage, about ten mile no'th of camp. +Leastwise, he's thar a heap when Monte comes +along, an' deemands that he be took up an' +carried to Tucson.</p> +<p>"It ain't first drink time before this Oscar's +missed, an' by second drink time the news has +drifted over to Miss Bark. It's Peets who informs +her, an' he tells us, when reelatin' the +incident, that the way that deeserted lady knits +her brow is a caution to philos'phers.</p> +<p>"'So,' she says at last, 'that onmitigated seedoocer +thinks to leave me in this heartless way. +He'll find before he's through that it's no light +matter to charm into fervent life a love like +mine.'</p> +<p>"'It's the theery, Miss,' says Peets, 'of the +best minds in camp that this Oscar's hit the +Tucson trail afoot, with a plan of headin' off +the stage.'</p> +<p>"Ten minutes an' Miss Bark is in the saddle, +a lead pony gallopin' by her side, in hot pursoote +of the dir'lect.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span></div> +<p>"'That lead pony looks om'nous, Doc,' observes +Enright, as the two stands watchin' Miss +Bark's departure.</p> +<p>"'It's prov'dential,' remarks Peets, as he +heads the procession to the Red Light, 'that +that sky-pilot's aboard the stage. Which he +ought to work in plumb handy.'</p> +<p>"Six hours later Miss Bark comes surgin' +in with her Oscar foogitive, his heels tied +onder the belly of the lead hoss. Any one can +see by his benumbed expression that he's a +married man. The two heads straight for the +Votes For Women S'loon, an' after boltin' +her new he'pmeet into the back room, +Miss Bark takes a peek in the glass, pats +down her ha'r, an' goes behind the bar as +yoosual.</p> +<p>"'Yes,' she replies, an' all a heap modest an' +artless, as Peets an' Enright––actin' on behalf +of the camp––gyardedly inquires if they're to +offer congratulations, 'I reckon you may. An' +the best part is that my dear Oscar's so plumb +ready an' willin'. Which I never knows a +bridegroom, gents, who gets married with so +little struggle.'</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_5' id='linki_5'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-093.jpg' alt='' title='' width='389' height='603' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +<span style='font-size:smaller'>"IT'S YOU, OSCAR, THAT I WANT," OBSERVES MISS BARK. "I CONCLOODES, UPON SOBER SECOND THOUGHT, TO ACCEPT YOUR OFFER OF MARRIAGE." <i>p.</i> 93.</span><br /> +</p> +</div> +<p>"'How soon, Missis Freelinghuysen,' says +Peets, 'do you-all reckon on lettin' this Oscar +husband out?'</p> +<p>"'Oh,' she returns, 'as soon as ever it's safe. +Jest now he's some onstrung; but in a day or +two I figger he'll begin to get reeconciled to +his bliss. An' at that, my main idee in lockin' +him up is one of reeform rather than restraint. +Oscar's been over-drinkin' himse'f of late; an' +I aims to get the whiskey out of him, so as I +can form some reas'nable estimate of how much +of a husband that a-way I've done roped +up.'</p> +<p>"'Is thar any objections,' asks Enright, 'to +our visitin' this modern pris'ner of Chillon? +We binds ourselves to say nothin' that'll fret +him, or set him to beatin' his life out ag'inst +the bars.'</p> +<p>"'W'y, shore,' she replies, 'you-all is quite +welcome. I only hopes you'll teach him to +look at things in their proper light.'</p> +<p>"'It ain't so much,' says this Oscar husband, +when Enright an' Peets calls upon him +in his captivity, 'that I've been hurried, onregyardful +of my feelin's, into the married +state. But, gents, my parent is doo, accordin' +to his last letter, to come curvin' in yere any +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span> +minute; an' whatever do you-all reckon now +he's goin' to say?'</p> +<p>"Enright an' Peets is so moved they promises +the imprisoned Oscar their support, an' +this leaves him, if not hopeful, at least some +cheered.</p> +<p>"Monte gives his version of them nuptials +when he returns from Tucson.</p> +<p>"'Which it's this a-way, pards,' says Monte. +'I'm twenty miles no'th of yere, when somethin' +flashes by with a lead hoss, like arrows. +Thinks I, "That's a hoss thief gettin' away +with some stock"; an', allowin' Jack Moore'll +be hard on his neefarious hocks, I'm lookin' +back to see can I raise Jack's dust. The next +I knows, an' all as sudden as a pan of milk +from a top shelf, I hears a silv'ry voice remarkin': +"Set your brake!" an' turnin' my head I +finds a winchester p'intin' as squar' between +my eyes as you-all could lay your finger. +Gents, thar's something mighty cogent about +a winchester that a-way, an' I shore shoves on +the brake with sech abandon I snaps the shank +short off.'</p> +<p>"'Wharever is this Oscar party?' asks Enright.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span></div> +<p>"'He's with me on the box; an' when this +yere intrepid Miss Bark takes to dom'neerin' +at us with that rifle he collapses. "It's you, +Oscar," observes this Miss Bark, shiftin' +the muzzle to him. "Upon second thought +I concloods to accept your offer of marriage."</p> +<p>"'Which at that crisis,' remarks Peets, 'this +Oscar of course breaks into loud an' joyful +cries.'</p> +<p>"'Not exactly. In fact, his tones if anything +is some low-sperited. "I takes it," he +says, when he's able to command his feelin's, +"that you declines them proffers with your +winchester at the time when made." But the +lady dismisses this as a quibble, an' merely +sayin' that she won't be paltered with no +farther, orders Oscar an' the Bible sharp who's +ridin' inside to assemble by the edge of the +trail. The Bible sharp attempts to lay the +foundations of fresh objections by askin' Oscar +does he do this of his own free will; but the +muzzle of the winchester––which the bride all +along reetains in her hands––begins movin' +'round in his direction, observin' which man'festation +he pronounces 'em husband an' wife. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span> +"What heaven has j'ined together," says he, +"let no man put asunder." After which he +blesses 'em, an' reeports the last cinch fastened. +"Pay him, Oscar," whispers the bride. Wharupon +Oscar, his fingers tremblin', squars the +Bible sharp with the price of a brace of steers, +an' the deed is done. Now he's hers for better +or worse, she ropes his heels together onder the +belly of her lead hoss, an' the happy pa'r goes +romancin' back for Wolfville, while I kicks +loose what's left of the brake an' p'ints out +ag'in for Tucson.'</p> +<p>"On the third day, by givin' his parole an' +promising to fondly reeport to his spouse once +every hour, Oscar is permitted to go reecreatin' +about the camp.</p> +<p>"'Only,' says the lady, by way of warnin' +to Black Jack, 'thar's to be no drinks.'</p> +<p>"These yere strained conditions preevails +for mebby it's five days, when, as the stage +swings in to the post office one evenin', a stout +florid old gent gets out. He comes puffin' up +to Peets a heap soopercilious.</p> +<p>"'Do you-all know a addle-pated an' semi-eediotic +young party,' says he, 'who's named +Oscar Freelinghuysen?'</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span></div> +<p>"'Why, yes,' returns Peets, 'I do. Onless +my mem'ry's pulled its picket pin an' gone +plumb astray he's the eboolient sharp who conclooded +a somewhat toomultuous courtship +last week by gettin' married. He's in the +shank of his honeymoon as we stands chattin' +yere.'</p> +<p>"The florid gent glares at Peets, his feachures +the color of liver, his eyes stickin' out +like the eyes of a snail.</p> +<p>"'Married!' he gasps, an' falls in a apoplectic +fit.</p> +<p>"It takes a week an' all the drugs Peets has +got before that apoplectic's able to sit up an' +call for nosepaint. An' whatever do you +think? His daughter-in-law, but onbeknownsts +to him as sech, nurses him from soda to hock. +Oscar Joonior? By advice of Enright that +prodigal's took to cover over in Red Dog ontil +we've made shore about the fatted calf.</p> +<p>"The former Miss Bark puts up that nursin' +game with Peets, an' day an' night she +hangs over her apoplectic father-in-law like a +painter over a picture. She's certainly as cunnin' +as a pet fox! She dresses as quiet as a +quail an' makes her voice as softly sober as a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span> +suckin' dove's. In the end she's got that patient +hypnotized.</p> +<p>"After Peets declar's him out of danger, an' +all propped up in his blankets he's subscribed +to mighty likely it's the fifth drink, the apoplectic +begins to shed tears a heap profoose, an' +relate to his nurse––the former Miss Bark––how +his two wives has died, leavin' him a lonely +man. She, the former Miss Bark, is his only +friend––he says––an' he winds up his lamentations +by recommendin' that she become his +third.</p> +<p>"'You're the only hooman heart who ever +onderstands me,' he wails, gropin' for her +hand, 'an' now my ongrateful boy has contracted +a messalliance I shore wants you for +my wife.'</p> +<p>"She hangs her head like a flower at night, +an' lets on she's a heap confoosed.</p> +<p>"'Speak,' he pleads; 'tell me that you'll be +mine.'</p> +<p>"'Which I'd shore admire to, but I +can't,' she murmurs; 'I'm wedded to your +son.'</p> +<p>"The old apoplectic asks for more licker in +a dazed way, an' sends for Peets. The Doc an' +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span> +him goes into execyootive session for most an +hour; meanwhile the camp's on edge.</p> +<p>"At the close the Doc eemerges plumb radiant.</p> +<p>"'Everything's on velvet,' he says; 'thar's +never a more joodicious convalescent. He +freely admits, considerin' the sort of daughter-in-law +he's acquired, that Oscar has more sense +than folks suspects.'</p> +<p>"Now that the skies is cl'ared, the bridegroom +is fetched back from Red Dog, an' +thar's a grand reeconciliation.</p> +<p>"'We'll all go back East together,' sobs +father-in-law Freelinghuysen, holdin' both +their hands.</p> +<p>"Two days later they starts, Missis Freelinghuysen +Joonier lookin' after father-in-law +Freelinghuysen same as if he's a charlotte +roosse.</p> +<p>"The Votes For Women S'loon?</p> +<p>"It's kept a secret, at Peet's su'gestion, him +bein' apoplectic that a-way. The stock is +bought by public subscription of the camp, an' +when the Freelinghuysen household is out of +sight an' hearin' we invites Red Dog over in a +body an' onbelts in a mod'rate orgy. The sign, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span> +'Votes For Women S'loon,' is now preeserved +in the custody of the Wolfville Historical Society, +which body is called into active bein' +upon motion of Peets, while Red Dog an' us +is drinkin' up the stock."</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span> +<a name='IV_OLD_MONTE_OFFICIAL_DRUNKARD' id='IV_OLD_MONTE_OFFICIAL_DRUNKARD'></a> +<h2>IV</h2> +<h3>OLD MONTE, OFFICIAL DRUNKARD</h3> +</div> +<p>"Shore; Monte's the offishul drunkard of +Arizona." The old cattleman was answering +my question. "Or, seein' that mebby +Wolfville's joorisdiction won't be held none to +reach beyond, let's say the offishul drunkard of +Cochise County. That's Monte's civic designation; +offishul drunkard, an' meant to fix his +social place.</p> +<p>"Does he resent it?</p> +<p>"Which he proudly w'ars that title like it's +a kingly crown! It's as good as even money +that to ondertake to sep'rate him from it, or +deny the same, is the one single thing he bristles +up at an' give you a battle over.</p> +<p>"Which this yere last should mean a heap, +since Monte's plumb pacific by nacher, an' +abhors war to the mean confines of bein' timid. +To be shore, he'll steam at the nose, an' paw +the sod, an' act like he's out to spread rooin +far an' wide––that he's doo to leave everything +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span> +in front of him on both sides of the road. But +in them perfervid man'festations he don't reely +intend nothin' either high or heenious, or +more'n jest to give his se'f-respect an outing +that a-way. Let the opp'sition call him down, +an' the crafty old cimmaron'll go to the diskyard +instanter.</p> +<p>"Which at that, Monte ain't without his +interestin' side. When onder the inflooence +of nosepaint, which last is constant, he has +three distinct moods. About the fo'th drink, +let a stranger show up, an'––all aff'ble an' +garyoolous––Monte's right thar to do the +honors. When the stranger, gettin' weary, +kicks Monte off him, the same bein' shore +to happen final since no one formed in the +image of his Maker can put up with them +verbal imbecil'ties of his beyond a given len'th +of time, he'll arch his back an'––apparently––wax +that f'rocious a wronged grizzly to him is +as meek as milk. An' yet, as I tells you, it's +simply a blazer; an' the moment the exasperated +stranger begins betrayin' symptoms of +goin' to a showdown, Monte lapses into +his third mood of haughty silence, an' struts +off like it's beneath him to bandy words.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span></div> +<p>"That's the savin' clause in Monte's constitootion; +he may get drunk, but he never +gets injoodicious. Thar's a sport from some'ers +over 'round Shakespear in the dance hall +one evenin', whose patience has been plenty +treespassed on by Monte. By way of +bringin' matters to a deecisive head, this yere +Shakespear party tells Monte he's a liar. +Do you reckon Monte hooks up with him? +Not a chance! He simply casts on that maligner +from Shakespear a look of disparagement, +an' with nose held high, as markin' his +contempt, moves away with the remark.</p> +<p>"'That's something I refooses to discuss +with you.'</p> +<p>"Which thar's no more real p'isin in Monte +than in a hired girl.</p> +<p>"We has the chance once to try some experiments +on Monte, an' it's the mistake +of our lives we don't. Peets, whose regrets is +scientific, feels speshully acoote. Thar's a partic'lar +bar'l of nosepaint gets trundled into +camp, which is nothin' short of bein' the condensed +essence of hostility. Black Jack, after +years as barkeep, says himse'f he never sees +nothin' like it. On the hocks of two drinks, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span> +folks gets that ornery Enright has it freighted +back to Tucson in alarm, fearin' for the peace +of the camp. At the time, none of us thinks +of it; but later it's a subject of gen'ral regret +that some of it ain't saved to try on Monte. +Mebby that speshul brand of licker turns out +to be the missin' ingreedient, an' keys him up +to deeds of heroism.</p> +<p>"Jest to show you some of the milder workin's +of that licker. Boggs files away four +inches of it onder his belt, an' next, when he's +walkin' by the corral an' meets a Mexican, he +reaches out in a casyooal an' abstracted way, +collars that Greaser an' hefts him over a six-foot +'dobe fence, same as if he's a bag of bran; +an' all apropos of nothin'. Boggs says himse'f +he don't know why none. He's thinkin' of +something else at the time, he declar's, an' the +eepisode don't leave no partic'lar traces on his +mem'ry. The trooth is, it's that veehement an' +onmuzzled nosepaint, incitin' him to voylence.</p> +<p>"Is the Mexican hurt?</p> +<p>"Which, if I remembers rightly, Peets does +mention about a busted collarbone. But it +don't create no interest––him bein' a Mexican. +You see, thar's a feelin', amountin' fa'rly to a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span> +onwritten law, that Mexicans ain't got no +rightful call to be seen in public no how; an' +when one does go pirootin' round permiscus, +in voylation of this yere tenet, nacherally he +takes his chances. You-all can gamble, though, +that Boggs shore never would have reached +for him, only he's actchooated by that whiskey.</p> +<p>"As modest an' retirin' a sperit as Cherokee, +to whom any form of boastful bluff is plumb +reepellant, subscribes to a mod'rate snifter of +that licker; an' in less time than it takes to +rope a pony, he's out in front of the Red +Light, onbucklin' in a display of pistol shootin'. +Thar's a brace of towerists in camp, an' +Cherokee let's on he'll show 'em. Which he +shore shows 'em! He tosses two tomatter cans +on high, an' with a gun in each hand keeps 'em +dancin' an' jumpin' about in the atmosphere +ontil thar's six bullets through each. It's a +heap satisfyin' as a performance, as far as +them pop-eyed towerists is concerned, an' both +leaves town that evenin' by speshul buckboard.</p> +<p>"Onaffected by that licker, Cherokee +wouldn't have no more gone an' made sech a +spectacle of himse'f, though urged tharunto +by the yoonanimous voice of the outfit. When +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span> +he so far recovers as to 'ppreeciate what Faro +Nell has to say of them exploits––an', while +tender, she's plenty explicit––he comes mighty +clost to blushin' himse'f to death.</p> +<p>"It's after we notes what it does to Cherokee, +an' hears of them exhibitions of broote +force by Boggs, that we gets timid about this +yere whisky, an' Enright orders the bar'l sent +back. An' right he is! S'ppose them Red +Dogs was to have come prancin' over for a social +call, an' s'ppose in entertainin' 'em we all +inadvertent has recourse to that partic'lar +licker, whatever do you-all reckon 'd have been +the finish? Son, thar'd have been one of them +things they calls a catyclism, an' nothin' short.</p> +<p>"It's shore a fightin' form of licker. +Tutt reeserves out a tin cup of it, an' sets it +down by a prairie dog's hole. Accordin' to +Tutt, the dog comes out, laps it once, an' starts +back same as if he's been shot with a '45. Thar +he squats, battin' his eyes, wrinklin' up his +nose, an' cogitatin'. After thinkin' the thing +over, the dog approaches, mighty gingerly, an' +takes three or four more laps. Then he r'ars +back, an' considers for quite a spell. It looks +final like he gets his mind made up, an' with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span> +that he capers over, an' he'ps himse'f to what +for a prairie dog is shore a big drink.</p> +<p>"Two minutes later, ha'r bristlin', whiskers +standin' out like wire, eyes full of determination, +that dog crosses over to another dog +who's livin' neighbor to him, an' says––accordin' +to Tutt:</p> +<p>"'Wharever can I locate that coyote who's +been domineerin' round yere for mebby it's a +month, harassin' folks into their holes? +Whar's that coyote at?'</p> +<p>"Peets allers allows Tutt exaggerates, but +havin' sampled that licker some myse'f, I'm a +long ride from bein' so shore.</p> +<p>"That lack of war instinct in Monte +ain't no speecific drawback. Him drivin' stage +that a-way, he ain't expected none to fight. +The hold-ups onderstands it, the company onderstands +it, everybody onderstands it. It's +the law of the trail. That's why, when the +stage is stopped, the driver's never downed. +Which if thar's money aboard, an' the express +outfit wants it defended, they slams on some +sport to ride shotgun that trip. It's for this +shotgun speshulist to give the route agents an +argyooment. Which they're licensed to go +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span> +bombardin' each other ontil the goin' down of +the sun. As for the driver, however, the etikette +simply calls for him to set his brake, an' +all peaceful hold his hands above his head. It's +inside his rights, too, accordin' to the rooles, +for him to cuss out the hold-ups, an' call 'em +all the hard names of which he's cap'ble; an' +stage drivers, who loves their art, spends their +time between drinks practisin' new cuss words, +an' inventin' onheard of epithets, so as to be +ready when dooty an' o'casion calls. Havin' +downed or driven off the shotgun sport, an' +seen the bottom of the express box, the hold-ups +tells the stage driver to pull his freight. +Wharupon he picks up the reins, kicks free the +brake, lets fly a loorid an' final broadside of +vitooperation––he havin' carefully reeserved +the same, by way of peroration––an' goes his +windin' way.</p> +<p>"Wolfville's been on the map for most a +year, when Monte first shows up. In the +beginnin', an' ontil we-all gets adjusted to +him, he's something of a bore. Leastwise, he +ain't what you'd go so far as to call a boon +companion. When it dawns on us that he's +plottin' to make himse'f a permanency, it certainly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span> +does look for a spell that, what with his +consumption of nosepaint an' what with his +turrific genius for snorin', he's goin' to be a +trifle more'n we can stand.</p> +<p>"Does Monte snore?</p> +<p>"Not to create ondoo excitement, the bar'foot +onclothed trooth is that his snorin' falls +nothin' short of bein' sinful. Boggs has plenty +of countenance when he brings them snores to +the attention of Enright.</p> +<p>"'Thar's shore a limit somewhar, Sam,' +Boggs says, 'to this yere drunkard's right to +snore. Which he's simply keepin' everybody +over to the O. K. House settin' up. Onless +something's done to check him, thar'll be a epidemic +of St. Vitus dance. You ask Doc +Peets; he'll tell you that this yere Monte with +his snorin' is a scourge.'</p> +<p>"It's not alone their volume, but their quality, +which makes them snores of Monte so +ondesir'ble. Some folks snores a heap deprecatory, +an' like they're apol'gizin' for it as they +goes along. Others snores in a manner ca'mly +confident, an' all as though the idee that any +gent objects would astonish 'em to death. Still +others snores plumb deefiant, an' like they +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span> +ain't snorin' so much for comfort, that a-way, +as to show their contempt for mankind. It's +to this yere latter hostile school that drunkard, +Monte, belongs.</p> +<p>"After Boggs lodges complaint, Enright +takes a corrective peek into the sityooation. +Thar's two rooms over the O. K. kitchen, sort +o' off by themselves. Upon Enright's hint, +Missis Rucker beds down Monte in one, an' +Deef Andy, who mends harness for the stage +company an' can't hear nothin', in the +other.</p> +<p>"'It's for the safety of your excellent car'vansary, +Ma'am,' Enright explains. 'Which +Dan's mighty easy moved; an' some mornin', +onless you adopts them improvements, that +somnolent sot you're harborin' 'll go too far +with Dan. I takes it you-all don't want the +shack all smoked up with Dan's six-shooter? +In which event you'll put that reverberant +drunkard in the far-corner room, with Andy +next.'</p> +<p>"Peets once mentions a long-ago poet party, +named Johnson, who, speakin' of a fellow poet +after he's dead an' down onder the grass-roots, +lets on that he teches nothin' he don't adorn. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span> +You can go your ultimate simoleon that ain't +Monte's style. The only things he don't +upset is bottles; the only flooid he never spills +is licker. This yere last would be ag'inst his +religion. Wharever he goes, he's otherwise +draggin' his rope, an' half the time he's steppin' +on it.</p> +<p>"It's him that coaxes that onhappy Polish +picture painter our way. This yere is long +after he's drivin' stage, an' as Wolfville's offishul +drunkard becomes a tol'rated feachure of +the camp. This Polish artist person is as much +out o' place in Arizona as a faro lay-out at a +Sunday school picnic. Monte crosses up +with him over at Tucson in the Oriental +S'loon, an' while thar's no ties between 'em, +more'n what nacherally forms between two +gents who sets drinkin' together all night long, +before ever they're through with each other +that inspired inebriate lands the locoed artist +party on our hands. Enright shore does go +the limit in rebookin' Monte.</p> +<p>"'Why, Sam,' says Monte, an' he's that +depreecatory he whines, 'I allows you'll look +on him as a acquisition.'</p> +<p>"'All the same,' returns Enright, an' I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span> +never knows him more forbiddin', 'yereafter +please confine your annoyin' assidooities to +drivin' stage, an' don't go tryin' to improve +the outlook of this camp.'</p> +<p>"Monte, with this, gets that dismal he +sheds tears. 'Which it shore looks like I can't +do nothin' right,' he sobs.</p> +<p>"'Then don't,' says Enright.</p> +<p>"From the start, Monte graves himse'f +upon the mem'ry of folk as the first sport, to +onroll his blankets in Cochise County, who +consoomes normal over twenty drinks a day. +Upon festal occasions like Noo Year's, an' +Christmas, an' Fo'th of Jooly, an' Thanksgivin', +no gent who calls himse'f a gent thinks +of keepin' tabs on a fellow gent, no matter +how freequent he signs up to Black Jack. On +gala o'casions, sech as them noted, the bridle +is plumb off the hoss, an' even though you +drinks to your capac'ty an' some beyond, no +one's that vulgar as to go makin' remarks. +But that ain't Monte; he's different a heap. +It looks like every day is Fo'th of Jooly with +him, he's that inveterate in his reemorseless +hankerin' for nosepaint.</p> +<p>"Also, regyarded as to his social side, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span> +Monte, as I states former, is a nooisance. +Knowin' folks, too, is his fad. Only so you +give him licker enough, he'll go surgin' round +accostin' every gent he sees. No matter how +austere a stranger is, Monte'll tackle him. +An' at that he never says nothin' worth hearin', +an' in its total absence of direction his conversation +resembles nothin' so much as a dog +chasin' its tail.</p> +<p>"An' then thar's them footile bluffs he's allers +tryin' to run. He's been pesterin' in an' +out of the Red Light one evenin' ontil he's got +Black Jack incensed. As he comes squanderin' +along, for say the twentieth time, Black +Jack groans, an' murmurs,</p> +<p>"'Yere's that booze-soaked old hoss-thief +ag'in!'</p> +<p>"Monte gets the echo of it, same as +folks allers does when it ain't wanted, but he's +onable to say who. So he stands thar by the +bar, glarin' 'round an' snortin'. Final, he +roars:</p> +<p>"'Who cuts loose that personal'ty?'</p> +<p>"Thar ain't no answer, an' Monte ag'in +takes to pitchin' on his rope.</p> +<p>"'Show me the galoot who insults me,' he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span> +roars; 'let him no longer dog it, but p'int himse'f +out as the gent.'</p> +<p>"'All right,' says Black Jack, whose indignation +gets the best of his reespons'bilities as +barkeep, 'which I'm the party who alloodes to +you as a booze-soaked old hoss-thief.'</p> +<p>"'An' so you're the gent,' says Monte, +castin' a witherin' glance at Black Jack; 'so +you're the would-be sooicide who calls me a +booze-soaked old hoss-thief?'</p> +<p>"'Which I'm the identical stingin' lizard. +Now what is it you're so plumb eager to say?'</p> +<p>"'What am I eager to say? I merely wants +to remark that you ain't done nothin' to swell +up over. You-all needn't go thinkin' you're +the first barkeep who calls me a booze-soaked +old hoss-thief.'</p> +<p>"Havin' la'nched this yere, Monte turns +off as stiffly pompous as though he ain't left a +grease-spot of Black Jack.</p> +<p>"When folks won't listen to him no longer, +Monte goes bulgin' forth into the highways +an' the byways, an' holds long an' important +discussions with signs, an' dry-goods boxes, an' +sim'lar inan'mate elements of the landscape. +Also, to mules an' burros. I remarks him myse'f, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span> +whisperin' in the onregyardful y'ear of a +burro, an' said anamile as sound asleep as a +tree. When that drunkard's through his confidences, +he backs off, an' wavin' his paw +plumb myster'ous at the burro says:</p> +<p>"'Remember, now; I'm givin' you this yere +p'inter as a friend.'</p> +<p>"That time Black Jack offends Monte, +after the latter hits the sidewalk followin' what +he clar'ly considers is his crushin' come-back +on Black Jack, he gets the feelin' that Jack's +ha'ntin' along on his trail. Before he's gone +fifty foot, he w'irls about, an' shouts:</p> +<p>"'Don't you-all follow me! Which, if you +crowds me, them places that has knowed you +won't know you no more forever.'</p> +<p>"When Monte gets off this menace, it +seems like the Black Jack specter becomes intim'dated, +an' tries to squar' itse'f.</p> +<p>"'What's that?' Monte asks, after listenin' +mighty dignified to the spook's excuses; +'you begs my pardon? Not another word. If +you-all keeps on talkin' now you'll sp'ile it. +Thar's my hand,' givin' the fingers of the +phantom a mighty earnest squeeze. 'I'm your +friend, an' that goes.'</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span></div> +<p>"Havin' established a peace, Monte insists +that the Black Jack phantom b'ar him +company to the O. K. Restauraw. In spite of +all Missis Rucker can say or do, he plants the +spook at the table, feeds it on the best that's +in the kitchen, an' all as confident as if it's +shorely troo. Also, he insists on payin' for +two.</p> +<p>"When Missis Rucker tries to show him he's +down wrong, he refooses to have it that way.</p> +<p>"'Do you-all reckon, Ma'am, that I can't +trust my eyes none?' he demands. 'Which +you'll tell me next that them airtights I tops +of with is figments.'</p> +<p>"'But thar's only one of you-all,' Missis +Rucker persists.</p> +<p>"'Ma'am,' returns Monte, his manner +plumb s'picious, 'I don't jest quite sense your +little game. Whatever it is, however, you-all +can't play it on old Monte. You write back +to my fam'ly an' the neighbors, an' the least +flatterin' among 'em'll tell you that I'm as +cunnin' as a squinch owl. Thar's two of us +who feeds, an' for two of us I settles. Bein' a +woman, you're too feeble-witted for reason, too +mendacious for trooth.'</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span></div> +<p>"'Don't you go callin' me no woman,' says +Missis Rucker, her eyes snappin', 'onless +you're ready to cash in.'</p> +<p>"'Women!' repeats Monte, sort o' addressin' +the scenery, but still plenty cynical, +'what be they except a fleetin' show to man's +deloosion given. Also, thar's nothin' to 'em. +You opens their front door, an' you're in their +back yard.'</p> +<p>"Texas has been givin' y'ear to the talk. +It's before his Laredo wife starts ropin' for +that divorce; but she's already makin' war +medicine, an' the signs an' signal smokes which +p'int to an uprisin' is vis'ble on every hill. +Texas is careful not to let Missis Rucker +hear him none, but as he walks away, he +mutters:</p> +<p>"'That ghost-seein' sport's got the treemors, +but all the same I strings with him on them +estimates of ladies.'</p> +<p>"Texas is that fav'rably affected about +Monte, he talks things over with Tutt, who +himse'f ain't married to Tucson Jennie none +as yet. Them nuptials, an' that onbiased blessin', +little Enright Peets Tutt, who results +tharfrom, comes along later.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span></div> +<p>"'Which thar's good in that Monte maverick,' +says Texas; 'only so we could get the +nosepaint out of him.'</p> +<p>"'Now, I wouldn't wonder none, neither,' +says Tutt.</p> +<p>"'He drinkt up two quarts an' a half yesterday,' +says Texas.</p> +<p>"'Ain't thar no steps which can be took?' +Tutt asks. 'Two quarts an' a half, though, +shore sounds like he's somethin' of a prop'sition.'</p> +<p>"These yere remarks is made in the Red +Light, an' Tutt an' Texas appeals to Cherokee, +whar that courtier of fortune is settin' in +behind his lay-out. Cherokee waves 'em off, +p'lite but firm.</p> +<p>"'Don't ask me none,' he says. 'You-all +knows my doctrines. Let every gent kill his +own snakes.'</p> +<p>"'That's my theology,' remarks Boggs, who +has just come ramblin' in from the Noo York +store, whar he's been changin' in a bundle of +money for shirts; 'I recalls how, when I'm a +prattlin' yearlin', hearin' Parson Ed'ards of +the Cambellite Church quotin' whar Cain gives +it out cold that he's not his brother's keeper; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span> +an' even at that onthinkin' age I fully endorses +Cain's p'sition.'</p> +<p>"The talk takes in Black Jack, who, by virchoo +of him bein' a barkeep, nacherally savvys +a heap about the licker question. Jack reelates +how a sot he knows back in Arkansaw is +shocked into never takin' a drink, by simply +blowin' his hand off accidental while tanked +up.</p> +<p>"'Whang! goes the old Betsy,' says Jack, +'an' that slave to licker's shy his left hand. +"Which it lets me out!" he exclaims; an' datin' +from said catastrophy he'd no more tech nosepaint, +that a-way, than he'd join the church.'</p> +<p>"'But it's doubtful,' observes Tutt, 'if Enright +stands to let us shoot this yere Monte +drunkard's hand off.'</p> +<p>"'It's ten to one he won't,' says Texas; 'still +thar ought to be other schemes for shockin' a +party into moral'ty, which stops short o' cripplin' +him for life.'</p> +<p>"'But is this yere inebriate worth the worry?' +asks Boggs. 'Also, it shore strikes me as +mighty gratooitous for us to go reorganizin' +the morals of a plumb stranger, an' him not +even asked.'</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span></div> +<p>"'Which he's worth the worry all right,' +Texas replies. 'Thar's no efforts too great, +when thar's a chance to save a party who has +the same thorough onderstandin' of ladies +which this gent has.'</p> +<p>"Up over the Red Light bar is a stuffed +bobcat, the same bein' held as decorative. +Only the day before Texas and Tutt stands +talkin', a couple of Enright's riders comes +packin' a live bobcat into town, which between +'em they ropes up over in the foothills of the +Tres Hermanas, an' jams labor'ously into a +pa'r of laiggin's. The same idee seizes on +Texas an' Tutt yoonanimous. They sees that +it only calls for the intelligent use of that +Bar-8 bobcat, which them cow-punchers of +Enright's ties down, to reegen'rate Monte, an' +make him white as snow.</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_6' id='linki_6'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-118.jpg' alt='' title='' width='391' height='603' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +<span style='font-size:smaller'>A COUPLE OF ENRIGHT'S RIDERS COMES A PACKIN' A LIVE BOBCAT INTO TOWN. <i>p.</i> 118.</span><br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span></div> +<p>"Monte's ain't present none, bein' over +to the O. K. House. By bein' plumb painstakin', +Tutt an' Texas gets a collar onto the +captive Bar-8 bobcat, an' chains him up over +the Red Light bar, in place of the stuffed bobcat, +deeposed. The Bar-8 bobcat jumps off +once or twict before he learns, an' comes +mighty clost to lynchin' himse'f. But Black +Jack is patient, an' each time pokes him back +with a cha'r. After mebby the third jump, +it gets proned into the bobcat that thar's nothin' +in it for him to go hurlin' himse'f into space +that a-way, an' bein' saved from death by +hangin' only through the cha'r-laig meditations +of Black Jack. Acceptin' this yere view, he +stands pat on his shelf. Likewise, he shore +looks mighty vivid up thar, an' has got that +former stuffed predecessor of his beat four +ways from the jack.</p> +<p>"We're hankerin' around, now the Bar-8 +bobcat's organized, waitin' for Monte to come +amblin' up, an' be reformed.</p> +<p>"'An' you can gamble,' Tutt says, 'that the +shock it'll throw into him'll have a ben'ficial +effect. Shootin' off a hand or so ain't in it +with the way that drunkard's goin' to feel.'</p> +<p>"'That's the way I figgers,' Texas remarks. +'One glance at that bobcat, him on the verge +of the treemors, an' thar'll a thrill go through +his rum-soaked frame like the grace of heaven +through a camp meetin'. For one, I antic'pate +most excellent effects. Whatever do you +think, Doc?'</p> +<p>"'Whatever do I think?' Peets repeats. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span> +'Which I thinks that, as the orig'nators of this +yere cure for the licker habit, it'll be up to +you an' Dave to convey the patient to his room +at the O. K. House, as soon as ever you can +control his struggles.'</p> +<p>"Monte at last heaves in sight, an' comes +shiverin' up to the bar, every nerve as tight as +a fiddle string. Black Jack shoves him the +bottle.</p> +<p>"'What stuffed anamile sharp,' says Tutt, +craftily directin' himself at Black Jack, +'mounts that bobcat up thar?'</p> +<p>"Monte nacherally raises his eyes. Thar's +that Bar-8 feline, half-crouched, glarin' down +on him with green eyes, big as moons.</p> +<p>"That settles it.</p> +<p>"Monte gives a yell which they hears in +Red Dog. Wharupon the bobcat, takin' it for +a threatenin' deemonstration, onfolds in an answerin' +yell, an' makes a scramblin' jump at +Monte's head. Shore, he don't land none, +bein' brought up short, like a roped pony. +Thar he swings, cussin' an' spittin' an' clawin', +as mad as a drunken squaw, an' begins all over +to hang himse'f afresh.</p> +<p>"Monte?</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span></div> +<p>"That victim of appetite falls to the floor +as dead an' flat as a wet December leaf.</p> +<p>"Actin' on them instructions, Tutt an' +Texas picks Monte up an' packs him +across to Peets, who, after fussin' over him for +mebby an hour, brings him round s'fficient so +he goes from one convulsion into another, +in what you-all might deescribe as an endless +chain of fits. Thar's nothin' to it; Peets is +indoobitable the best equipped drug sharp +that ever breaks loose in Arizona. At that, +while Monte lives, he don't but jest. He's +shore close enough at one time to kingdom +come to hear the singin'.</p> +<p>"For two weeks Monte's boilin' an' +boundin' round in his blankets, Texas an' +Tutt, feelin' a heap reemorseful, standin' +watch and watch. It's decided that no more +attempts to reform him will be made, him +bein'––accordin' to Peets––too far gone that +a-way.</p> +<p>"'He's plumb onreform'ble,' explains Peets; +'whiskey's got to be so much a second nacher +with him, that the only way you-all could +cure him now is kill him.'</p> +<p>"By way of partial rep'ration for what he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span> +suffers, as soon as Monte can ag'in move +about, Enright calls a meetin' of the camp, an' +dooly commissions him 'Offishul Drunkard,' +with a absoloote an' non-reevok'ble license to +go as far as he likes.</p> +<p>"'This yere post of offishul drunkard,' Enright +explains to the meetin', 'carries with it +no money, no power, an' means only that he's +free to drink from dark to daylight an' to +dark ag'in, oncriticized, onreproved, an' onsaved. +Colonel Sterett imparts to us in the +last <i>Daily Coyote</i> how them Hindoos has their +sacred cobras. Cobras not bein' feas'ble none +in Arizona, Wolfville in loo of sech accepts old +Monte. Yereafter, w'arin' the title of offishul +drunkard, he takes his place in the public regyard +as Wolfville's sacred cobra.'</p> +<p>"When Monte learns of his elevation, +his eyes fills up with gratified pride, an' as +soon as ever he's able to stand the w'ar an' +t'ar, he goes on a protracted public drunk, by +way of cel'bration, while we looks tol'rantly on.</p> +<p>"'Gents,' he says, 'I thanks you. Yereafter +the gnawin' tooth of conscience will be dulled, +havin' your distinguished endorsement so to +do. Virchoo is all right in its place. But so +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span> +is vice. The world can't all be good an' safe +at one an' the same time. Which if we all done +right, an' went to the right, we'd tip the world +over. Half has got to do wrong an' go to the +left, to hold things steady. That's me; I was +foaled to do wrong an' go to the left. It's the +only way in which a jealous but inscroot'ble +Providence permits me to serve my hour. Offishul +drunkard! Ag'in I thanks you. Which +this yere's the way I long have sought, an' +mourned because I found it not, long meter.'</p> +<p>"Boggs is the only gent who takes a gloomy +view.</p> +<p>"'That's fine for this yere egreegious +Monte,' says Boggs, talkin' to Enright; 'as +Wolfville's pet drunkard an' offishul cobra, +he's mighty pleasantly provided for. But how +about the camp? Whar does Wolfville come +in? We're a strong people; but does any gent +pretend that we possesses the fortitoode reequired +to b'ar up through all the comin' rum-soaked +years?––an' all onder the weight of this +yere onmatched inebriate, whom by our own +act an' as offishul drunkard, we onmuzzles in +our shrinkin' midst? Gents, this thing can't +last.'</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span></div> +<p>"'Not necessar'ly, Dan,' retorts Enright, +his manner trenchin' on the cold; 'not necessar'ly. +Let me expound the sityooation. I +need not remind you-all that Sand Creek +Riley, who drives the Tucson stage, gets +bumped off the other evenin', while preeposterously +insistin' that aces-up beats three-of-a-kind. +Realizin' the trooth of half what you +has said, Dan, I this evenin' enters into strategic +reelations with the stage company's agent; +an' as a reesult, an' datin' from now on, old +Monte will be hired to fill the place of Sand +Creek Riley, whom we all regrets. It's hardly +reequired that I p'int out the benefits of this +yere arrangement. As stage driver, old +Monte for every other night will get sawed +off on Tucson. An' I misjedges the vitality +of this camp if, with the pressure on it thus relieved, +an' Tucson carryin' half the load, it's +onable to live through. In my opinion, Dan, +by the light of this explanation, you at least +oughter hope for the best.'</p> +<p>"'That's whatever!' says Boggs, who's +plumb convinced; 'if I'd waited ontil you was +heard, Sam, I'd never voiced them apprehensions. +But the fact is, this yere Monte cobra +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span> +of ours, with his bibbin's an' his guzzlin's, has +redooced me to a condition of nervous prostration. +It's all right now. Which I will say, +however, that I can't reeflect none without a +shudder on what them Tucson folks'll say an' +think, so soon as ever they wakes up to what's +been played on 'em.'"</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span> +<a name='V_HOW_THE_MOCKING_BIRD_WAS_WON' id='V_HOW_THE_MOCKING_BIRD_WAS_WON'></a> +<h2>V</h2> +<h3>HOW THE MOCKING BIRD WAS WON</h3> +</div> +<p>"Myst'ries?</p> +<p>"We lives surrounded by 'em. Look whar +you will, nacher has a ace buried. Take dogs, +now: Why is it when one of 'em, daylight or +dark, cuts the trail of a anamile, he never +makes the fool mistake of back-trackin' it, but +is shore to run his game the way it's movin'? +There must be some kind of head-an'-tail to +the scent, that a-way, to give the dog the +hunch. Myst'ry!––all myst'ry! The more a +gent goes messin' 'round for s'lootions, the +more he's taught hoomility an' that he ain't +knee-high to toads.</p> +<p>"An' yet when it comes to things myster'ous +everything else is bound to go to the diskyard +compared to a lady's heart. Of course, I +speaks only in a sperit of philos'phy, an' not +as one who's suffered. I never myse'f am able +pers'nal to approach closter to a lady's heart +than across the street. Peets once reemarks +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span> +that all trails leads to Rome. In that business +of trails a lady's heart has got Rome left +standin' sideways. Not only does every trail +lead tharunto, but thar's sech a thing as goin' +cross-lots. Take gettin' in love; thar's as +many ways as cookin' eggs. While you'll see +gents who goes skallyhootin' into that dulcet +condition as straight as a arrer, thar's others +who sidles in, an' still others who backs in. I +even knows a boy who shoots his way in.</p> +<p>"Which the lady in this case is the Mockin' +Bird. That Mockin' Bird maiden has wooers +by onbounded scores, but holds herse'f as shy +an' as much aloof as if she's a mountain sheep. +Not one can get near enough to her to give her +a ripe peach. Along comes the eboolient Turkey +Track, bulges headlong into her dest'nies, +takes to menacin' at her with a gun an', final, +to bombardin' her outright, an'––love an' heart +an' hand––she comes a-runnin'.</p> +<p>"Wolfville's without that last evidence of +advancement, a callaboose. It bein' inconvenient +to shoot up or lynch everybody who +infringes our rooles, Jack Moore invents a +convincin' but innocuous punishment for minor +offenders. Endorsed by Enright, he established +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span> +a water trough––it's big enough to swim +a dog––over by the windmill; an' when some +perfervid cow-puncher, sufferin' from a overdose +of nosepaint, takes to aggravatin' 'round +Moore swashes him about in the trough some +profoose, ontil he gives his word to live a happier +an' a better life.</p> +<p>"It's like magic the way that water trough +works. No matter how gala some pronghorn +of a cowboy may feel, it shore lets the whey +out of him. Given the most voylent, it's only +a matter of minutes before he's soaked into +quietood. Enright himse'f says Moore's entitled +to a monyooment for the idee.</p> +<p>"Turkey Track's name is Ford, Tom Ford, +but workin' that a-way for the Turkey Track +outfit he nacherally gets renamed for the +brand. Turkey Track an' two boon companions +has been goin' to an' fro from the Red +Light to the Dance Hall, ontil by virchoo of +a over-accumyoolation of licker they're beginnin' +to step some high. Also, they takes to +upliftin' their tired souls with yells, an' blazin' +away at froote cans with their six-shooters.</p> +<p>"It gets so that Enright tells Moore to give +'em a call-down.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span></div> +<p>"'What them boys does,' says Enright, 'is +done harmless an' light-hearted to be shore, an' +nothin' radic'lly wrong is either aimed at or +meant; but all the same, Jack, it's no more'n +proodence to go knock their horns off. It +ain't what them yooths is doin', but what they +may be led to do, which makes the danger. +It's like old Deacon Sopris at the Cumberland +Methodist class meetin' says of kyard-playin'. +"It ain't," explains the deacon, "that thar's +any harm in the children playin' seven-up +around the kitchen table of a winter's evenin' +for grains of corn, but seven-up persisted +in is shore to lead to dancin'." An' +so with these young merry-makers. They'll +keep on slamin' away at empty bottles an' +former tomatter cans that a-way, ontil the +more seedate element objects, an' somebody +gets downed. Don't you agree with +me, Doc?'</p> +<p>"'Nothin' shorer!' says Peets.</p> +<p>"Moore corrals Turkey Track an' his fellow +revellers, an' tosses off a few fiats.</p> +<p>"'Quit that whoopin' an' shootin', boys,' +says Moore. 'Likewise, keep your hardware +in your belts, as more deecorous. So shore as +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span> +I finds a gun in any of your hands ag'in, I'll +shoot it out.'</p> +<p>"Turkey Track an' his <i>compadres</i> don't say +nothin' back. They savvys about the water +trough, an' ain't hungerin' none to have their +ardor dampened in no sech fashion. So they +blinks an' winks like a passel of squinch owls, +but never onbuckles in no argyooment. All +the same, it irks 'em a whole lot, an' after +Moore reetires they begins mod'rate to arch +their necks an' expand 'round a little.</p> +<p>"They allows––talkin' among themselves in +a quer'lous way––that they ain't hurtin' no +one, an' for Moore to come shovin' 'round an' +lecturin' on etiquette is a conceited exhibition +of authority as offensive as it is onjest. Thar's +doubts, too, about it's bein' constitootional.</p> +<p>"'Whatever does that jim-crow sp'ile-sport +of a marshal mean?' says Turkey Track. 'It +looks like he's not only deefyin' the organic +law of this country, but puttin' on a heap of +dog. Does he reckon this yere camp's a +church?'</p> +<p>"'I moves we treats them mandates,' says +one of the boys, who's a rider for the G-bar +ranch, 'with merited contempt.'</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span></div> +<p>"'As how?' asks the third, who belongs with +the Four-J brand. 'You ain't so locoed as to +s'ggest we-all t'ars person'ly into this Jack +Moore marshal none I hopes?'</p> +<p>"'Which you fills me with disgust!' says the +other, nettled at the idee of pawin' the onprofit'ble +grass 'round Moore; 'but whatever's +the matter with goin' up to the far end of the +street, an' w'irl an' come squanderin' back jest +a shootin'?'</p> +<p>"'Great!' says Turkey Track, applaudin' +the scheme. 'Which we-all nacherally shoots +up their old prairie dog town, same as if it's +a Mexican plaza, an' then jogs on to our +ranches, all triumphant an' comfortable.'</p> +<p>"The three rides up to the head of the street, +an' then turns an'––givin' their ponies the +steel––comes whizzin' down through the center +of eevents, yelpin' like Apaches an' lookin' like +fireworks. They've got a gun in each hand, +an' they shakes the flame an' smoke out of 'em +same as three volcanoes on hossback.</p> +<p>"Moore's standin' in front of the Noo York +store, talkin' to Tutt. As you-all might imagine, +it frets him to the quick to see how little +them effervescent sperits cares for his injunctions. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span> +By way of rebooke––not wantin' to +down 'em outright for what, take it the worst +way, ain't nothin' more heen'ous than a impropriety––Moore +gets his artillery to b'ar, an' +as they flashes by like comets, opens on the +ponies. It's hard on the ponies; but it won't +do to let them young roysterers get away with +their play. The example'll spread; an', onless +checked at the jump, inside of a month thar'd +be nothin' but a whoopin' procession of cow-punchers +chargin' up an' down the causeways. +Tenderfeet might acquire misgivin's techin' +us bein' a peaceful camp, an' the thing op'rate +as a blow to trade. It's become a case of +either get the boys or get the ponies, an' onder +the circumstances the ponies has the +call.</p> +<p>"Thar's no more artistic gun-player than +Moore in town, onless it's Cherokee, an' mebby +Doc Peets, who's a heap soon with a derringer. +As the ponies flash by, Moore's six-shooter +barks three times. Two ponies goes rollin'; +the third––it's Turkey Track's––continyoos +cavortin' down the street an' out of town. +Turkey Track never pulls up nor looks back. +The last we sees of him is when he's two miles +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span> +away, an' a swell rises up behind him an' hides +him from view.</p> +<p>"The G-bar boy, an' him from the Four-J +outfit, hits the grass twenty feet ahead of their +ponies, like a roll of blankets chucked out of a +wagon, an' after bumpin' an' tumblin' along +for a rod or so, an' all mighty condoosive to +fractures an' dislocations, they flattens out reespective +same as a couple of cancelled postage +stamps. Shore, the fall jolts the savvy plumb +out of 'em.</p> +<p>"Bein' they're stretched out an' passive, +Moore collects 'em an' sops 'em up an' down in +the water trough for mebby it's fifteen minutes. +Which they're reesus'tated an' reeproved +at one an' the same time. When them yooths +comes to, they're a model to angels. To be +shore, their intellects don't shine out at first +none like the sun at noon, but continyoos +blurred for hours. Even as late as the weddin' +of Turkey Track with the Mockin' Bird––an' +that ain't for all of eight weeks––the G-bar +boy informs Boggs confidenshul, as they're +takin' a little licker all sociable, that speakin' +mental he's as yet a heap in eeclipse.</p> +<p>"The maiden name of the Mockin' Bird is +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span> +Loocinda Gildersleeve, but pop'lar pref'rence +allers sticks to her stage title. She's a fav'rite +at the Bird Cage Op'ry House, at which +nursery of the drammy she's been singin' off +an' on for somethin' like three years. She's a +shore-enough singer, too, the Mockin' Bird is. +None of your yeepin's an' peepin's, none of +your mice squeaks an' tea-kettle tones an' cub +coyote yelps. Which she's got a round, meelod'yous +bellow like a hound in full cry, an' +while she's singin' thar ain't a wolf'll open his +mouth within a mile of town. Which them +anamiles is plumb abashed, the Mockin' Bird +outholdin' 'em to that degree.</p> +<p>"You-all don't hear no sech singin' in the +East. Thar ain't room; an' moreover the +East's too timid. For myse'f, an' I ain't got +no y'ear for music, them top notes of the Mockin' +Bird, like the death yell of a mountain lion, +is cap'ble of givin' me the fantods; while the +way she hands out 'Home, Sweet Home' an' +'Suwannee River,' an' her voice sort o' diggin' +down into the soul, sets eemotional sports like +Boggs an' Black Jack to sobbin' as though +their hearts is broke. She's certainly a jo-darter +of a vocalist––the Mockin' Bird is, an' +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span> +once when she renders 'Loosiana Loo' an' +Boggs's more'n common affected, he offers to +bet yellow chips as high as the ceilin' she can +sing the sights off a Colt's .45.</p> +<p>"'Which I enjoys one of the most mis'rable +evenin's of my c'reer,' says Boggs to Faro +Nell, when she expresses sympathy at him +feelin' so cast down. 'I wouldn't have missed +it for a small clay farm.'</p> +<p>"'<i>Yo tambien</i>' says Black Jack, who's +keepin' Boggs melancholly company while he +weeps. 'Only I reckons the odd kyard in my +own case is that, before I'm a man an' in some +other existence, I used to be one of these yere +ornery little fice dogs, which howls every time +it hears a pianny. It's some left-over vestiges +of that life when I'm a dog which sets me to +bawlin', that a-way, whenever the Mockin' +Bird girl sings. I experiences pensive sensations, +sim'lar to what comes troopin' over a +gent, who's libatin' alone, on the heels of the +third drink.'</p> +<p>"The Mockin' Bird looks as sweet as she +sings. I mentions long ago about the phil'sophic +old stoodent who says, 'They do say love +is blind, but I'll be ding-danged if some gents +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span> +can't see more in their girls than I can.' This +yere wisdom don't apply none to the Mockin' +Bird. Them wooers of hers, to say nothin' of +Turkey Track, possesses jestification for becomin' +so plumb maudlin'. Lovely? She's as +pretty as a cactus flower, or a sunrise on the +staked plains.</p> +<p>"Folks likes her, too. Take that evenin' +when a barbarian from over to'ards the Cow +Springs cuts loose to disturb the exercises at +the Bird Cage Op'ry House with a measly +fling or two. The public well nigh beefs him. +They'd have shore put him over the jump, +only Enright interferes.</p> +<p>"It's doorin' the openin' scene, when the actors +is camped 'round in a half-circle, facin' the +fiddlers. Huggins, who manages the Bird +Cage, an' who's the only hooman who ever consoomes +licker, drink for drink, with Monte, an' +lives to tell the tale, is in the middle. Bowin' +to the Mockin' Bird, an' as notice that she's +goin' to carol some, he announces:</p> +<p>"'The world-reenowned cantatrice, Mam'selle +Loocinda Gildersleeve, cel'brated in two +hemispheres as the Mockin' Bird of Arizona, +will now sing the ballad wharwith she ravished +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span> +the y'ears of every crowned head of Europe, +the same bein' that pop'lar air from the op'ry +of <i>Loocretia Borgia</i>, "Down in the Valley."'</p> +<p>"At this that oncooth crim'nal from the Cow +Springs gets up:</p> +<p>"'The Mockin' Bird of Arizona which you-all +is bluffin' about,' he shouts, 'can't sing +more'n a burro, an' used to sling hash in a +section house over by Colton.'</p> +<p>"'Never the less, notwithstandin',' replies +Huggins, who's too drunk to feel ruffled, +'Mam'selle Loocinda Gildersleeve, known to +all the world as the Mockin' Bird of Arizona, +will now sing "Down in the Valley."'</p> +<p>"Huggins would have let things go at that, +but not so the Wolfville pop'lace. In the +cockin' of a winchester they swoops down on +that Cow Springs outcast like forty hen-hawks +on a single quail, an' as I yeretofore observes, +if it ain't for Enright they'd have made +him shortly hard to find. You can gamble, +the Cow Springs savage never does go out on +that limb ag'in.</p> +<p>"While Turkey Track escapes the water +trough, an' makes his getaway that time all +right, the pore pony ain't got by Moore onscathed. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span> +The bullet hits him jest to the r'ar +of the saddle-flap, an' out about a brace of +miles he stumbles over dead.</p> +<p>"It's yere eevents begins to fall together like +a shock of oats. The Mockin' Bird's been over +entrancin' Tucson, an' the reg'lar stage with +Monte not preecisely dove-tailin' with her +needs, she charters a speshul buckboard to get +back. Thar's a feeble form of hooman ground +owl drivin' her, one of these yere parties who's +all alkali an' hard luck, an' as deevoid of manly +sperit as jack-rabbits onweaned.</p> +<p>"This yere ground owl party, drivin' for +the Mockin' Bird, comes clatterin' along with +the buckboard jest as Turkey Track strips the +saddle an' bridle from his deefunct pony. Turkey +Track is not without execyootive ability, +an' seein' he's afoot an' thirty miles from his +home ranch, he pulls his gun an' sticks up the +buckboard plenty prompt. At the mere sight +of a weepon the hands of that young owl-person +goes searchin' for stars, an' he's beggin' +Turkey Track not to rub him out––him thinkin' +it's a reg'lar hold-up. That's all the opp'sition +thar is, onless you counts the reemarks +of the Mockin' Bird, who becomes both bitter +an' bitin' in equal parts, but has no more effect +on Turkey Track––an' him afoot that +a-way––than pourin' water on a drowned rat. +Shore, a cow-puncher'd fight all day, an' even +face a enraged female, before he'd walk a hour.</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_7' id='linki_7'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-138.jpg' alt='' title='' width='604' height='393' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +<span style='font-size:smaller'>TURKEY TRACK, SEEIN' HE'S AFOOT AN' THIRTY MILES FROM HIS HOME RANCH PULLS HIS GUN AN' STICKS UP THE MOCKIN' BIRD'S BUCKBOARD. <i>p.</i> 138.</span><br /> +</p> +</div> +<p>"Turkey Track piles his saddle an' bridle +onto the r'ar of the buckboard, an' settin' in +behind on his plunder, commands the ground +owl driver to head west till further orders. +Likewise, he so far onbends as to say that them +orders won't be deecem'nated, none whatever, +ontil he's landed at the Turkey Track home +ranch. Since he backs this yere programme +with his artillery, the ground owl ain't got +nothin' to say, an' it's no time when the outfit's +weavin' along a side trail in the sole int'rests +of Turkey Track.</p> +<p>"What's worse, to dispell the ennui of sech +a trip, an' drive away dull care, Turkey Track +takes to despotizin' over the Mockin' Bird with +his six-shooter, an' compels her to sing constant +throughout them thirty miles. He makes +her carrol everythin' from 'Old Hundred' to +'Turkey in the Straw,' an' then brings her back +to 'Old Hundred' an' starts her over. The +pore harassed Mockin' Bird, what with the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span> +dust, an' what with Turkey Track tyrannizin' +at her with his gun, sounds final like an ongreased +wheelbarrow which has seen better +days. She don't get her voice ag'in for mighty +clost to a month, an' even then, as she says +herse'f, thar's places where the rivets reequires +tightenin'.</p> +<p>"It's pressin' onto eight weeks before ever +Turkey Track is heard of 'round town ag'in. +Also, it's in the Bird Cage Op'ry House he +hits the surface of his times. The Mockin' +Bird has jest done drove the vocal picket-pin +of 'Old Kentucky Home,' when, bang! some +loonatic shoots at her. Which the bullet bores +a hole in the scenery not a foot above her head.</p> +<p>"Every one sees by the smoke whar that +p'lite attention em'nates from, an' before you +could count two, Moore, Boggs, an' Texas +Thompson has convened themselves on top of +that ident'cal spot. Thar sets Turkey Track, +cryin' like a child.</p> +<p>"'It's no use, gents,' he sobs, the tears coursin' +down his cheeks, 'she's so plumb bewitchin', +an' I adores her so, I simply has to blaze away +or bust.'</p> +<p>"While he don't harm the Mockin' Bird +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span> +none, the sent'ment of the Stranglers, when +Enright raps 'em to order inform'ly at the +Red Light an' Black Jack has organized the +inspiration, favors hangin' Turkey Track. +Even Texas, who loathes ladies by reason of +what's been sawed off onto him in the way of +divorce an' alimony, that a-way, by his Laredo +wife, is yoonan'mous for swingin' him off.</p> +<p>"'That I don't believe in marryin' 'em,' says +Texas, expoundin' his p'sition concernin' +ladies in answer to Boggs who claims he's inconsistent, +'don't mean I wants 'em killed. +But you never was no logician, Dan.'</p> +<p>"Cherokee's the only gent who's inclined to +softer attitoodes, an' that leeniency is born +primar'ly of the inflooence of Nell. Nell is +plumb romantic, an' when she hears how the +Turkey Track's been enfiladin' at the Mockin' +Bird only because he loves her, while she don't +reely know what she does want done with that +impossible cow-puncher, she shore don't want +him hanged.</p> +<p>"'It's sech a interestin' story!' says Nell, an' +then capers across to Missis Rucker an' Tucson +Jennie to c'llect their feelin's.</p> +<p>"Moore brings in Turkey Track.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span></div> +<p>"'Be you-all tryin' to blink out this yere +young lady?' asks Enright, 'or is that gun play +in the way of applause?'</p> +<p>"'It's love,' protests Turkey Track, his voice +chokin'; 'it's simply a cry from the soul. I +learns to love her that day on the buckboard +while I'm lookin' at her red ha'r, red bein' my +winnin' color. Gents, you-all won't credit it +none, but jest the same them auburn tresses +gets wropped about my heart.'</p> +<p>"'Whatever do you make of it, Doc?' whispers +Enright.</p> +<p>"'This boy,' returns Peets, 'has got himse'f +too much on his own mind. He's sufferin' +from what the books calls exaggerated ego.'</p> +<p>"'That's one way of bein' locoed, ain't it?'</p> +<p>"'Shore. But him bein' twisted mental ain't +no reason for not adornin' the windmill with +his remains. The only public good a hangin' +does is to scare folks up a lot, an' you can +scare a loonatic quite as quick an' quite as +hard as a gent whose intellects is plumb.'</p> +<p>"'Thar she stands,' Turkey Track breaks in +ag'in, not waitin' for no questions, 'an' me as +far below her as stingin' lizards is from stars! +Then, ag'in, when folks down in front is +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span> +a'plaudin' her, she wavin' at 'em meanwhile the +gracious smile, it makes me jealous. Gents, +I don't plan nothin', but the first I knows I +lugs out the old .45 an' onhooks it.'</p> +<p>"The Mockin' Bird has come over from the +O. K. House with Nell, Missis Rucker an' +Tucson Jennie. As she hears Turkey Track's +confession two drops shows in her eyes like +diamonds. Clutchin' hold of Nell, an' with +Missis Rucker an' Tucson Jennie flockin' +along in the r'ar, she rushes out the front +door.</p> +<p>"This manoover leaves us some upset, ontil +Nell returns to explain.</p> +<p>"'She's overcome by them disclosures,' says +Nell, 'an' goes outside to blush.'</p> +<p>"'The ontoward breaks of that songstress,' +observes Enright oneasily, 'has a tendency to +confoose the issue, an' put this committee in +the hole.'</p> +<p>"'Thar's nothin' confoosin' about it, Sam +Enright.' It's Missis Rucker who breaks out +high an' threatenin', she havin' come back with +Nell. 'This yere Mockin' Bird girl's in love +with that gun-playin' cowboy, an' it's only now +she finds it out. Do you-all murderers still +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span> +insist on hangin' this yere boy, or be you willin' +to see 'em wed an' live happy ever after?'</p> +<p>"'Let's rope up a divine some'ers,' exclaims +Boggs, 'an' have 'em married. If that Mockin' +Bird girl wants Turkey Track she shall +shore have him. I'd give her his empty head +on a charger, if she asks it, same as that party +in holy writ, she singin' "Suwannee River" +like she does.'</p> +<p>"Cherokee, who's more or less rooled by +Nell, thinks a weddin' the proper step, an' +Tutt, who sees somethin' in Tucson Jennie's +eye, declar's himse'f some hasty.</p> +<p>"Even Texas backs the play.</p> +<p>"'But make no mistake,' says Texas; 'I insists +on wedlock over lynchin' only because it's +worse.'</p> +<p>"'Which it's as well, Sam Enright,' observes +Missis Rucker, blowin' through her nose +mighty warlike, 'that you an' your marauders +has sense enough to see your way through to +that deecision. Which if you'd failed, I'd have +took this Turkey Track boy away from you-all +with my own hands. This Vig'lance Committee +needn't think it's goin' to do as it pleases +'round yere––hangin' folks for bein' in love, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span> +an' closin' its y'ears to the moans of a bleedin' +heart.'</p> +<p>"'My dear ma'am,' says Enright, his manner +mollifyin'; 'I sees nothin' to discuss. The +committee surrenders this culprit into the +hands of you-all ladies, an' what more is thar +to say?'</p> +<p>"'Thar's this more to say,' an' Missis Rucker's +that earnest her mouth snaps like a trap. +'You an' your gang, settin' round like a passel +of badgers, don't want to get it into your heads +that you're goin' to run rough-shod over me. +When I gets ready to have my way in this outfit, +the prairie dog that stands in my path'll +shore wish he'd never been born.'</p> +<p>"Enright don't say nothin' back, an' the +balance of us maintainin' a dignified silence, +Missis Rucker, after a look all 'round, withdraws, +takin' with her Tucson Jennie an' Nell, +Turkey Track in their midst.</p> +<p>"'Gents,' observes Enright, when they're +shore departed, an' speakin' up deecisive, 'ways +must be deevised to 'liminate the feminine element +from these yere meetin's. I says this before, +but the idee don't seem to take no root. +Thar's nothin' lovelier than woman, but by +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span> +virchoo of her symp'thies she's oncap'ble of +exact jestice. Her feelin's lead her, an' her +heart's above her head. For which reasons, +while I wouldn't favor nothin' so ondignified +as hidin' out, I s'ggests that we be yereafter +more circumspect, not to say surreptitious, in +our deelib'rations.'</p> +<p>"Shore, they're married. The cer'mony +comes off in the O. K. House, an' folks flocks +in from as far away as Deming.</p> +<p>"'If you was a chemist, Sam,' says Peets, +tryin' to eloocidate what happens when the +Mockin' Bird learns she's heart-hungry that +a-way for Turkey Track, 'you'd onderstand. +It's as though her love's held in s'lootion, an' +the jar of Turkey Track's gun preecip'tates +it.'</p> +<p>"'Mebby so,' returns Enright; 'but as a +play, this thing's got me facin' back'ards. +Thar's many schemes to win a lady, but this +yere's the earliest instance when a gent shoots +his way into her arms.'</p> +<p>"'Well,' returns Peets, 'you know the old +adage––to which of course thar's exceptions.' +Yere he glances over at Missis Rucker. 'It +runs:</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span></div> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>"A woman, a spaniel an' a walnut tree,<br /> +The more you beat 'em the better they be."</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>"Boggs has been congratchoolatin' Turkey +Track, an' kissin' the bride. Texas, as somber +as a spade flush, draws Boggs into a corner.</p> +<p>"'That Turkey Track,' says Texas, 'considers +this a whipsaw. He misses hangin', an' +he gets the lady. He feels like he wins both +ways. Wait! Dan, it won't be two years +when he'll discover that, compar'd to marriage, +hangin' that a-way ain't nothin' more'n a technical'ty.'"</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span> +<a name='VI_THAT_WOLFVILLERED_DOG_FOURTH' id='VI_THAT_WOLFVILLERED_DOG_FOURTH'></a> +<h2>VI</h2> +<h3>THAT WOLFVILLE-RED DOG FOURTH</h3> +</div> +<p>"By nacher I'm a patriot, cradle born and +cradle bred; my Americanism, second to none +except that of wolves an' rattlesnakes an' Injuns +an' sim'lar cattle, comes in the front door +an' down the middle aisle; an' yet, son, I'm +free to reemark that thar's one day in the year, +an' sometimes two, when I shore reegrets our +independence, an' wishes thar had been no +Yorktown an' never no Bunker Hill."</p> +<p>The old cattleman tasted his glass with an +air weary to the borders of dejection; after +which he took a pathetic puff at his pipe. I +knew what had gone wrong. This was the +Fifth of July. We had just survived a Fourth +of unusual explosiveness, and the row and +racket thereof had worn threadbare the old +gentleman's nerves.</p> +<p>"Yes, sir," he continued, shoving a 'possum-colored +lock back from his brow, "as I suffers +through one of them calamities miscalled cel'brations, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span> +endoorin' the slang-whangin' of the +orators an' bracin' myse'f ag'inst the slam-bangin' +of the guns, to say nothin' of the firecrackers +an' kindred Chinese contraptions, I +a'preeciates the feelin's of that Horace Walpole +person Colonel Sterett quotes in his <i>Daily +Coyote</i> as sayin', 'I could love my country, if +it ain't for my countrymen.'</p> +<p>"Still, comin' down to the turn, I reckon it +merely means, when all is in, that I'm gettin' +too plumb old for comfort. It's five years now +since I dare look in the glass, for fear I'd be +tempted to count the annyooal wrinkles on my +horns.</p> +<p>"It's mighty queer about folks. Speakin' +of cel'brations, for thousands of years the only +way folks has of expressin' any feelin' of commoonal +joy, that a-way, is to cut loose in limitless +an' onmeanin' uproar. Also, their only +notion of a public fest'val is for one half of +the outfit to prance down the middle of the +street, while the other half banks itse'f ag'inst +the ediotic curb an' looks at 'em.</p> +<p>"People in the herd ain't got no intelligence. +We speaks of the lower anamiles as though +we just has it on 'em completely in the matter +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span> +of intelligence, but for myse'f I ain't so shore. +The biggest fool of a mule-eared deer savvys +enough to go feedin' up the wind, makin' so to +speak a skirmish line of its nose to feel out +ambushes. Any old bull elk possesses s'fficient +wisdom to walk in a half-mile circle, as a concloodin' +act before reetirin' for the night, so +that with him asleep in the center, even if the +wind does shift, his nose'll still get ample notice +of whatever man or wolf may take to followin' +his trail.</p> +<p>"That's what them 'lower anamiles' does. +An' now I asks, what man, goin' about his +numbskull dest'nies, lookin' as plumb wise as +a too-whoo owl at noon, ever shows gumption +equal to keepin' the constant wind in his face, +or has the sense to go walkin' round himse'f +as he rolls into his blankets, same as that proodent +elk? After all, I takes it that these yere +Fo'th of Jooly upheavals is only one among +the ten thousand fashions in which hoomanity +eternally onbuckles in expressin' its imbecil'ty.</p> +<p>"Which I certainly do get a heap disgusted +at times with the wild beast called man. With +all his bluffs about bein' so mighty sagacious, +I can sit yere an' see that, speakin' mental, he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span> +ain't better than an even break with turkey +gobblers. Even what he calls his science turns +finally out with him to be but the accepted ignorance +of to-day; an' he puts in every to-morrow +of his existence provin' what a onbounded +jackass rabbit he's been the day before. It's +otherwise with them lower anamiles; what they +knows they knows."</p> +<p>Plainly, something had to be done to fortify +my old friend. I fell back, quite as a matter +of course, upon that first aid to the injured, +another drink, and motioned the black waiter +to the rescue. It did my old friend good, that +drink, the first fruits of which easier if not better +condition being certain fresh accusations +against himself.</p> +<p>"The trooth is, I'm a whole lot onused to +these yere Fo'th of Jooly outbursts; an' so I +ondoubted suffers from 'em more keenly, that +a-way, than the av'rage gent. You see we +never has none of 'em in Wolfville; leastwise +we never does but once. On that single festive +occasion we shore stubs our toe some plentiful, +stubs it to that degree, in fact, that we never +feels moved to buck the game ag'in. Once is +enough for Wolfville.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span></div> +<p>"Which it's the single failure that stains the +fame of the camp. At that, the flat-out reely +belongs to Red Dog; or at least to Pete Bland, +for which misguided party the Red Dogs freely +acknowledges reespons'bility as belongin' to +their outfit.</p> +<p>"This yere Bland's dead now an' deep onder +the doomsday sods. Also, he died drinkin' like +he'd lived.</p> +<p>"'What's the malady?' Enright asks Peets, +when the Doc comes trackin' back, after seein' +the finish of Bland.</p> +<p>"'No malady at all, Sam,' says Peets, plumb +cheerful an' frisky, same as them case-hardened +drug folks allers is when some other sport +passes in his checks––'no malady whatsoever. +His jag simply stops on centers, as a railroad +gent'd say, an' I'm onable to start it ag'in.'</p> +<p>"Was Peets any good as a med'cine man? +Son, I'm shocked! Peets is packin' 'round in +his professional warbags the dipplomies of +twenty colleges, an' is onchallenged besides as +the best eddicated sharp personal on the sunset +side of the Mississippi. You bet, he onderstands +the difference at least between bread +pills an' buckshot, which is a heap sight further +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span> +than some of these yere drug folks ever +studies.</p> +<p>"Colonel Sterett, who's fa'rly careful about +what he says, reefers to Peets in his <i>Daily Coyote</i> +as a 'intellectchooal giant,' an' thar ain't +no record of any scoffer comin' squanderin' +along to contradict. Mebby you'll say that +the omission to do so is doo to the f'rocious +attitoode of the <i>Daily Coyote</i> itse'f, techin' +contradictions, an' p'int to how that imprint +keeps standin' at the head of its editorial columns +as a motto, the cynicism:</p> +<p>"'Contradict the <i>Coyote</i> and avoid old age!'</p> +<p>"Thar'd be nothin' in it if you do. That +motto's only one of Colonel Sterett's bluffs, +one of his witticisms that a-way. You don't +reckon that, in a sparsely settled country, whar +the pop'lation is few an' far between, the Colonel's +goin' to go bumpin' off a subscriber over +mebby a mere difference of opinion? The +Colonel ain't quite that locoed."</p> +<p>"But about your Wolfville-Red Dog Fourth +of July celebration?" I urged.</p> +<p>"Which I'm in no temper to tell a story––me +settin' yere with every nerve as tight as a banjo +catgut jest before it snaps. To reelate yarns +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span> +your mood ought to be the mood of the racontoor––a +mood as rich an' rank an' upstandin' +as a field of wheat, ready to billow an' bend +before every gale of fancy. The way yesterday +leaves me, whatever tale I ondertakes to +reecount would about come out of my mouth +as stiff an' short an' brittle as chopped hay. +Also, as tasteless. Better let it go till some +other an' more mellow evenin'."</p> +<p>No; I was ready to accept the chances, and +said as much. A chopped-hay style, for a +change, might be found acceptable. Supplementing +the declaration with renewed Old Jordan, +I was so far victorious that my aged man +of cattle yielded.</p> +<p>"Well, then," he began reluctantly, "I'm +onable to partic'larly say which gent does +make the orig'nal s'ggestion, but my belief is +it's Peets. I'm shore, however, that the Cornwallis +idee comes from Bland; an', since it's +not only at that Cornwallis angle we-all falls +publicly down, but the same is primar'ly doo +to the besotted obstinacy of this yere Bland +himse'f, Wolfville, while ever proudly willin' +to b'ar whatever blame's sawed off on to her +shoulders proper, is always convinced that Red +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span> +Dog an' not us is to be held accountable. +However, Bland's gone an' paid what the sky +scouts speaks of as the debt to nacher, an' I'm +willin' to confess for one that when he's sober +he ain't so bad. Not that them fits of sobriety +is either so freequent or so protracted they +takes on any color of monotony.</p> +<p>"Bland's baptismal name is Pete, an' in his +way he's a leadin' inflooence in Red Dog. He's +owner of the 7-bar-D outfit, y'earmark a +swallow-fork in both y'ears––which brands +seventeen hundred calves each spring round-up; +an' is moreover proprietor of the Abe Lincoln +Hotel, the same bein' Red Dog's principal +beanery. Bland don't have to keep this +yere tavern none, but it arranges so he sees +his friends an' gets their <i>dinero</i> at one an' the +same time, which as combinin' business an' +pleasure in equal degrees appeals to him a +heap.</p> +<p>"Which it's the gen'ral voice that the best +thing about Bland is his wife. She's shore +loyal to Bland, you bet! When they're livin' +in Prescott, an' a committee of three from one +of them 'Purification Of The Home' societies +comes trapesin' in, to tell her about Bland bein' +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span> +ondooly interested in a exyooberant young +soobrette who's singin' at the theayter, an' +spendin' his money on her mighty permiscus, +Missis Bland listens plenty ca'm ontil they're +plumb through. Then she hands them Purifiers +this:</p> +<p>"'Well, ladies, I'd a heap sooner have a husband +who can take keer of two women than a +husband who can't take keer of one.'</p> +<p>"After which she comes down on that Purification +bunch like a fallin' star, an' brooms +'em out of the house. Accordin' to eye witnesses, +who speaks without prejewdyce, she +certainly does dust their bunnets strenuous.</p> +<p>"When Bland hears he pats Missis Bland +on the shoulder, an' exclaims, 'Thar's my troo-bloo +old Betsy Jane! She knows I wouldn't +trade a look from them faded old gray eyes of +hers for all the soobretts whoever pulls a frock +on over their heads!'</p> +<p>"Followin' which encomium Bland sends to +San Francisco an' changes in the money from +five hundred steers for an outfit of diamonds, +to go 'round her neck, an' preesents 'em to +Missis Bland.</p> +<p>"'Thar,' he says, danglin' them gewgaws +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span> +in the sun, 'you don't notice no actresses flittin' +about the scene arrayed like that, do you? If +so, p'int out them over-bedecked females, an' +I'll see all they've got on an' go 'em five thousand +better, if it calls for every 7-bar-D steer +on the range.'</p> +<p>"'Pete,' says Missis Bland, clampin' on to +the jooelry with one hand, an' slidin' the other +about his neck, 'you certainly are the kindest +soul who ever makes a moccasin track in Arizona, +besides bein' a good provider.'</p> +<p>"Shore, this yere Bland ain't so plumb +bad.</p> +<p>"An' after a fashion, too, he's able to give +excooses. Talkin' to Peets, he lays his rather +light an' frisky habits to him bein' a preacher's +son.</p> +<p>"'Which you never, Doc,' he says, 'meets +up with the son an' heir of a pulpiteer that +a-way, who ain't pullin' on the moral bit, an' +tryin' for a runaway.'</p> +<p>"'At any rate, Pete,' the Doc replies, all +cautious an' conservative, 'I will say that if +you're lookin' for some party who'll every day +be steady an' law abidin', not to say seedate, +you'll be a heap more likely to find him by +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span> +searchin' about among the progeny of some +party who's been lynched.'</p> +<p>"Recurrin' again to that miserabul Fo'th of +Jooly play we cuts loose in, it's that evenin' +when we invites Red Dog over in a body to +he'p consoome the left-over stock of lickers in +the former Votes For Women S'loon, an' +nacherally thar's some drinkin'. As is not infrequent +whar thar's drinkin', views is expressed +an' prop'sitions made. It's then we +takes up the business of havin' that cel'bration.</p> +<p>"Peets makes a speech, I recalls, an' after +dilatin' 'round to the effect that Fo'th of Jooly +ain't but two weeks ahead, allows that it'd be +in patriotic line for us to do somethin'.</p> +<p>"'Conj'intly,' says Peets, 'Red Dog an' +Wolfville, movin' together with one proud +purpose of patriotism, ought to put over quite +a show. As commoonities we're no longer in +the swaddlin' clothes of infancy. It's time, too, +that we goes on record as a whole public in +some manner an' form best calk'lated to make +a somnolent East set up an' notice us.'</p> +<p>"Peets continyoos in a sim'lar vein, an' +speaks of the settlement of the Southwest, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span> +wharin we b'ars our part, as a 'Exodus without +a prophet, a croosade without a cross,' +which sent'ment he confesses he takes from a +lit'rary sport, but no less troo for that. He +closes by sayin' that if everybody feels like he +does Wolfville an' Red Dog'll j'ine in layin' +out a program, that a-way, which'll shore +spread the glorious trooth from coast to coast +that we-all is on the map to stay.</p> +<p>"It's a credit to both outfits, how yoonanimously +the s'ggestion is took up. Which I +never does see a public go all one way so plumb +quick, an' with so little struggle, since B'ar +Creek Stanton is lynched; which act of jestice +even has the absoloote endorsement of B'ar +Creek himse'f.</p> +<p>"Peets is no sooner done talkin' than Tutt +stacks in.</p> +<p>"'Thar's our six-shooters,' says he, 'for the +foosilade; an', as for moosic, sech as "Columbia +the Gem" an' the "Star Spangled Banner," we +can round up them Dutchmen, who's the orchestra +over at the Bird Cage Op'ry House.'</p> +<p>"The talk rambles on, one word borryin' another, +ontil we outlines quite a game. Thar's +to be a procession between Wolfville an' Red +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span> +Dog, an' back ag'in, Faro Nell leadin' the +same on a <i>pinto</i> pony as the Goddess of Liberty.</p> +<p>"'An' that reeminds me,' submits Cherokee, +when we reaches Nell; 'thar's Missis Rucker. +It's goin' to hurt her feelin's to be left out. As +the preesidin' genius of the O. K. Restauraw +she's in shape to give us a racket we'll despise +in eevent she gets her back up.'</p> +<p>"'How about lettin' her in on the play,' +says Boggs, 'an' typ'fyin' Jestice, that +a-way?'</p> +<p>"'Thar's a idee, Dan,' says Texas Thompson, +'which plugs the center, a reecommendation +which does you proud! Down in that +Laredo Co't House whar my wife wins out her +divorce that time, thar's a figger of Jestice +painted on the wall. Shore, it don't mean +nothin'; but all the same it's thar, dressed in +white, that a-way, with eyes bandaged, an' +packin' a sword in one hand an' holdin' aloft +some balances in t'other. Come to think of it, +too, that picture shore looks a lot like Missis +Rucker in the face, bein' plumb haughty an' +commandin'.'</p> +<p>"'Missis Rucker not bein' yere none,' says +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span> +Enright softly, an' peerin' about some cautious, +'I submits that while no more esteemable +lady ever tosses a flapjack or fries salt-hoss +in a pan, her figger is mebby jest a trifle too +abundant. As Jestice, she'll nacherally be arrayed––as +Texas says––in white, same as Nell +as the Goddess. I don't want to seem technicle, +but white augments the size of folks an' +will make the lady in question look bigger'n a +load of hay.'</p> +<p>"'Even so,' reemarks the Red Dog chief indulgently, +'would that of itse'f, I asks, be reckoned +any setback? The lady will person'fy +Jestice; an' as sech I submits she can't look +none too big.'</p> +<p>"In compliment to the Red Dog chief Enright, +with a p'lite flourish, allows that he +yields his objection with pleasure, an' Missis +Rucker is put down for Jestice. It's agreed +likewise to borry a coach from the stage company +for her to ride on top.</p> +<p>"'Her bein' preeclooded,' explains Peets, +'from ridin' a hoss that a-way, as entirely +ondignified if not onsafe. We can rig her up +a throne with one of the big splint-bottom +cha'rs from the Red Light, an' wrop the same +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span> +in the American flag so's to make it look +offishul.'</p> +<p>"Tucson Jennie, with little Enright Peets as +the Hope of the Republic, is to ride inside the +coach.</p> +<p>"Havin' got this far, Pete Bland submits +that a tellin' number would be a sham battle, +Red Dog ag'in Wolfville.</p> +<p>"Thar's opp'sition developed to this. Both +Enright an' the Red Dog chief, as leaders of +pop'lar feelin', is afraid that some sport'll forget +that it ain't on the level, an' take to over-actin' +his part.</p> +<p>"As the Red Dog chief expresses it:</p> +<p>"'Some gent might be so far carried away +by enthoosiasm as to go to shootin' low, an' +some other gent get creased.'</p> +<p>"'The same bein' my notion exact,' Enright +chips in. 'Of course, the gent who thus shoots +low would ondenyably do so onintentional; +but what good would that do the party who's +been winged, an' who mightn't live long +enough to receive apol'gies?'</p> +<p>"'That's whatever!' says Jack Moore. 'A +sham battle's too plumb apt to prove a snare. +The more, since everybody's so onused to 'em +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span> +'round yere. A gent, by keepin' his mind firm +fixed, might manage to miss once or twice; but +soon or late he'd become preoccupied, an' +bust some of the opp'sition before he could +ketch himse'f.'</p> +<p>"Bland, seein' opinion's ag'inst a sham battle, +withdraws the motion, an' does it plenty +graceful for a gent who's onable to stand.</p> +<p>"'Enough said,' he remarks, wavin' a acquiescent +paw. 'Ante, an' pass the buck.'</p> +<p>"The Lightnin' Bug, speakin' from the Red +Dog side, insists that in the reg'lar course of +things thar's bound to be oratory. In that +connection he mentions a sharp who lives in +Phoenix.</p> +<p>"'Which I'm shore,' says the Bug, 'he'd be +gladly willin' to assist; an' you hear me he's +got a tongue of fire! Some of you-all sports +must have crossed up with him––Jedge Beebe +of Phoenix?'</p> +<p>"'Jedge Beebe?' interjecks Monte, who's +given a hostler his proxy to take out the stage +because of thar bein' onlimited licker; 'me an' +the Jedge stands drinkin' together for hours +the last time he's in Tucson. But you're plumb +wrong, Bug, about him bein' eloquent.'</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span></div> +<p>"'Wrong?' the Bug repeats, mighty indignant.</p> +<p>"'Of course,' says Monte, rememberin' how +easy heated the Bug is, an' that he looks on +six-shooters as argyooments, 'I don't mean he +can't talk none; only he ain't what the Doc +yere calls no Demosthenes.'</p> +<p>"'Did you ever hear the Jedge talk?' demands +the Bug.</p> +<p>"'Which I shore does,' insists Monte; 'I +listens to him for two hours that time in Tucson. +It's when they opens the Broadway +Dance Hall.'</p> +<p>"'Whatever is his subject?' asks the Bug, +layin' for to ketch Monte; 'what's the Jedge +talkin' about?'</p> +<p>"'I don't know,' says Monte, wropped in +his usual mantle of whiskey-soaked innocence; +'he didn't say.'</p> +<p>"The Bug's eyes comes together in a angry +focus; he thinks he's bein' made game of.</p> +<p>"Tharupon Enright cuts in.</p> +<p>"'Bug,' he says, all sociable an' suave, 'you +mustn't mind Monte. He's so misconstructed +that followin' the twenty-fifth drink he goes +about takin' his ignorance for information. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span> +No one doubts but you're a heap better jedge +than him of eloquence, an' everything else except +nosepaint. S'ppose you consider yourse'f +a committee to act for the con'jint camps, +an' invite this yere joorist to be present as +orator of the day.'</p> +<p>"The Bug's brow cl'ars at this, an' he asshores +Enright that he'll be proud to act as +sech.</p> +<p>"'An', gents,' he adds, 'if you says he ain't +got Patrick Henry beat to a standstill, may I +never hold as good as aces-up ag'in.'</p> +<p>"The Red Dog chief announces that all +hands must attend a free-for-all banquet which, +inflooenced by the tenth drink, he then an' +thar decides to give at Bland's Abe Lincoln +House.</p> +<p>"'Said banquet,' he explains, 'bein' in the +nacher of a lunch to be held at high noon. If +the dinin' room of the Abe Lincoln House +ain't spacious enough, an I'll say right yere +it ain't, we'll teetotaciously set them tables in +the street. That's my style! I wants everybody, +bar Mexicans, to be present. When I +gives a blow-out, I goes fo'th into the highways +an' byways, an' asks the halt an' the lame an' +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span> +the blind, like the good book says. Also, no +gent need go prowlin' 'round for no weddin' +garments wharin to come. Which he's welcome +to show up in goat-skin laiggin's, or appear +wropped in the drippin' an' offensive pelt +of a wet dog.'</p> +<p>"The Red Dog chief, lest some of us is sens'tive, +goes on to add that no gent is to regyard +them cracks about the halt an' the lame an' the +blind as aimed at Wolfville. He allows he +ain't that invidious, an' in what he says is +merely out to be both euphonious an' explicit, +that a-way, at one an' the same time.</p> +<p>"To which Enright reesponds that no offence +is took, an' asshores the Red Dog chief that +Wolfville will attend the banquet all spraddled +out.</p> +<p>"More licker, followed by gen'ral congratulations.</p> +<p>"Bland ag'in comes surgin' to the fore. This +time he thinks that as a main feachure it would +be a highly effective racket to reënact the surrender +of Cornwallis to Washington.</p> +<p>"Tutt goes weavin' across to shake his +hand.</p> +<p>"'Some folks allows, Pete,' says Tutt, 'that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span> +you're as whiskey-soaked an old fool as Monte. +But not me, Pete, not your old pard, Dave +Tutt! An' you hear me, Pete, that idee about +Cornwallis givin' up his sword to Washington +dem'nstrates it.'</p> +<p>"'You bet your life it does!' says Bland.</p> +<p>"'But is this yere surrender feasible?' asks +Texas. 'Which, at first blink, it seems some +cumbrous to me.'</p> +<p>"'It's as easy as turnin' jack,' declar's Tutt, +takin' the play away from Bland. 'I've seen +it done.'</p> +<p>"'As when an' whar?' puts in Cherokee.</p> +<p>"'Thar's a time,' says Tutt––'it's way back––when +I sets into a little poker game over in +El Paso, table stakes she is, an' cleans up for +about $10,000. For mebby a week I goes +'round thinkin' that $10,000 is a million; an' +after that I simply <i>knows</i> it is. These yere +onnacheral riches onhinges me to a p'int whar +I deecides I'll visit Chicago an' Noo York, as +calk'lated to broaden me.'</p> +<p>"'Noo York!––Chicago!' interrupts the +Bug. 'I once deescends upon them hamlets, +an' I encounters this yere strikin' difference. +In Chicago they wouldn't let me spend a dollar, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span> +while in Noo York they wouldn't let anybody +else spend one.'</p> +<p>"'It's otherwise with me,' goes on Tutt, 'because +for a wind-up I don't see neither. I'm +young then, d' you see, an' affected by yooth +an' wealth I takes to licker, with the result that +I goes pervadin' up an' down the train, insistin' +on becomin' person'ly known to the passengers.'</p> +<p>"'An' nacherally you gets put off,' says +Boggs.</p> +<p>"'Not exactly, neither. Only the conductor, +assisted by a bevy of brakemen, lays the thing +before me in sech a convincin' shape that I +gets off of my own accord. It seems that to +be agree'ble, I proposes wedlock to a middle-aged +schoolmarm, who allows that she sees no +objection except I'm a perfect stranger. She +says it ain't been customary with her much to +go weddin' strangers that a-way, but if I'll +get myse'f reg'larly introdooced, an' then give +her a day or so to become used to my looks, +she'll go me. It's then the conductor draws +me aside, an' says, "I've a son about your age, +my eboolient young sport, which is why I +takes your part. My theery is that if you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span> +sticks aboard this train ontil we reaches Rock +Island, you'll never leave that village a single +man."</p> +<p>"'This sobers me,' Tutt continyoos, 'an' I +hides in the baggage kyar ontil we reaches +a camp called Sedalia, whar I quietly makes +my escape. I'm that reelieved I gives the cabman +$20 to let me drive, an' then starts in to +wake things up. Which I shore wakes 'em! +I comes down the main street like the breath of +destiny; an', say, you ought to see them Missourians +climb trees, an' gen'rally break for +cover! It costs me $50; an' the jedge gives +me his word that, only it's the Fo'th of Jooly, +he'd have handed me two weeks in the calaboose. +I clinks down the fifty <i>pesos</i> some +grateful, an' goes bulgin' forth to witness the +cer'monies. She's a jo-darter, that Sedalia +cel'bration is! As Pete yere recommends, they +pulls off the surrender of Cornwallis on the +Fair grounds. Also, it's plumb easy. All you +needs is mebby a couple of hundred folks on +hosses, an' after that the rest's like rollin' off +a log.'</p> +<p>"More is said as the drink goes round, an' +Cornwallis surrenderin' to Washington takes +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span> +hold of our imaginations. We throws dice, +an' settles it that Red Dog'll be the English, +with Bland as Cornwallis, while Wolfville acts +as the Americans, Boggs to perform as Washington––Boggs +bein' six foot an' some inches, +besides as wide as a door. By the time we gets +the stock of the Votes for Women S'loon fully +drinked up everything's arranged.</p> +<p>"Onless you sees no objections, son, I'll gallop +through the balance of this yere painful +eepisode. The day comes round, bright an' +cl'ar, an' the Copper Queen people gen'rously +starts the ball a-rollin' by explodin' thirteen +cans of powder, one for each of the orig'nal +states. Then the procession forms, Nell in +front as the Goddess. Thar's full two hundred +of us, Wolfville an' Red Dog, on ponies. +As to Missis Rucker, she's on top of the coach +as Jestice, Tucson Jennie––with little Enright +Peets lookin' like a young he cherub––inside, +an' Monte pullin' the reins over the six hosses. +We makes four trips between Wolfville an' +Red Dog, crackin' off our good old '45s at irreg'lar +intervals, Nell on her calico pony as +the Goddess bustin' away with the rest.</p> +<p>"Little Enright Peets wants in on the pistol +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span> +shootin', an' howls jes' like a coyote––as children +will––ontil Boggs, who foresees it an' +comes provided, gives him a baby pistol, a box +of blank cartridges, an' exhorts him to cut +loose. Which little Enright Peets shore cuts +loose, all right; an', except that he sets fire to +the coach a few times, an' makes Missis Rucker +oneasy up on top––her fearin' that mebby some +of them blanks has bullets in 'em by mistake––he +has a perfectly splendid time.</p> +<p>"The procession over, we eats up the Red +Dog chief's banquet, wharat every brand of +airtights is introdooced. That done, we listens +to Jedge Beebe, who soars an' sails an' sails +an' soars, rhetorical, for mebby it's a hour, an' +is that eloquent an' elevated he never hits nothin' +but the highest places.</p> +<p>"The Red Dog chief makes a speech, an' +proposes 'Wolfville'; to which Peets––by Enright's +request––reesponds, an' offers 'Red +Dog.' It's bottoms up to both sentiments; +for thar's no negligence about the drinks, +Black Jack havin' capered fraternally over to +he'p out his overworked barkeep brother of +the Red Dog Tub of Blood.</p> +<p>"When no one wants to further drink or eat +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span> +or talk, we reepa'rs to a level place between +the two camps to go through the Cornwallis' +surrender. The rival forces is arrayed opp'site, +Cornwallis Bland in a red coat, an' Washington +Boggs in bloo an' buff, accordin' to the +teachin's of hist'ry. Both of 'em has sabers +donated from the Fort.</p> +<p>"When all's ready Washington Boggs an' +Cornwallis Bland rides out in front ontil +they're in easy speakin' distance. Cornwallis +Bland's been over-drinkin' some, an' is w'arin' +a mighty deefiant look.</p> +<p>"After a spell, nothin' bein' spoke on either +side, Washington Boggs calls out:</p> +<p>"'Is this yere Gen'ral Cornwallis?'</p> +<p>"'Who you talkin' to?' demands Cornwallis +Bland, a heap contemptuous an' insolent.</p> +<p>"Peets has done writ out words for 'em to +say, but neither uses 'em. Observin' how +Cornwallis Bland conducts himse'f, Washington +Boggs waves his sword plenty vehement, +which makes his pony cavort an' buckjump, an' +roars:</p> +<p>"'Don't you try to play nothin' on me, Gen'ral +Cornwallis. Do you or do you not surrender +your mis'rable blade?'</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span></div> +<p>"'Surrender nothin'!' Cornwallis Bland +sneers back, meanwhile reelin' in his saddle. +'Thar's never the horned-toad clanks a spur +in Cochise County can make me surrender. +Likewise, don't you-all go wavin' that fool +weepon at me none. I don't valyoo it more'n +if it's a puddin' stick. Which I've got one of +'em myse'f'––yere he'd have lopped off one of +his pony's y'ears, only it's so dull––'an' I +wouldn't give it to a yellow pup to play with.'</p> +<p>"'For the last time, Cornwallis,' says Washington +Boggs, face aflame with rage, 'I commands +you to surrender.'</p> +<p>"'Don't let him bluff you, Pete,' yells a +bumptious young cow-puncher who belongs on +the Red Dog-English side. 'Which we can +wipe up the plains with that Wolfville outfit.'</p> +<p>"The Red Dog chief bats the young trouble-makin' +cow-puncher over the head with his +gun, an' quietly motions to the Lightnin' Bug +an' a fellow Red Dog to pack what reemains +of him to the r'ar. This done, he turns to reemonstrate +with Cornwallis Bland for his obstinancy. +He's too late. Washington Boggs, +who's stood all he will, drives the spurs into +his pony, an' next with a bound an' a rush, he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span> +hits Cornwallis Bland an' his charger full +chisle.</p> +<p>"The pony of Cornwallis Bland fa'rly swaps +ends with itse'f, an' Cornwallis would have +swapped ends with it, too, only Washington +Boggs collars an' hefts him out of his +saddle.</p> +<p>"'Now, you onwashed drunkard, will you +surrender?' roars Washington Boggs, shakin' +Cornwallis Bland like a dog does a rat, ontil +that British leader drops all of his hardware, +incloosive of his pistol––'now will you surrender, +or must I break your back across your own +pony, as showin' you the error of your ways?'</p> +<p>"It looks like thar's goin' to be a hostile +comminglin' of all hands, when––her ha'r +streamin' behind her same as if she's a comet––Missis +Bland comes chargin' up.</p> +<p>"'Yere, you drunken villyun!' she screams +to Boggs, 'give me my husband this instant, +onless you wants me to t'ar your eyes out!'</p> +<p>"'It's him who's to blame, ma'am,' says Enright +mildly, comin' to Boggs' rescoo; 'which +he won't surrender.'</p> +<p>"'Oh, he won't, won't he?' says Missis +Bland, as she hooks onto Cornwallis Bland. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span> +'You bet he'll surrender to me all right, or I'll +know why.'</p> +<p>"As the Red Dog chief is apol'gizin' to Enright, +who's tellin' him not to mind, Cornwallis +Bland is bein' half shoved an' half drug, not +to mention wholly yanked, towards the Abe +Lincoln House by Missis Bland.</p> +<p>"That's the end. This yere ontoward finale +to our cel'bration gets wide-flung notice in +print, an' instead of bein' a boost, as we-all +hopes, Wolfville an' Red Dog becomes a jest +an' jeer. Also, while it don't sour the friendly +relations of the two camps, the simple mention +of Fo'th of Jooly leaves a bitter taste in the +Wolfville-Red Dog mouth ever since."</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span> +<a name='VII_PROPRIETY_PRATT_HYPNOTIST' id='VII_PROPRIETY_PRATT_HYPNOTIST'></a> +<h2>VII</h2> +<h3>PROPRIETY PRATT, HYPNOTIST</h3> +</div> +<p>"Do I ever see any folks get hypnotized? +Which I witnesses a few sech instances. But +it's usually done with a gun. If you're yearnin' +to behold a party go into a trance plumb +successful an' abrupt, get the drop on him. +Thar ain't one sport in a hundred who can +look into the muzzle of a Colt's .45, held by a +competent hand, without lapsin' into what +Peets calls a 'cataleptic state.'</p> +<p>"Shore, son, I savvys what you means."</p> +<p>The last was because I had begun to exhibit +signs of impatience at what I regarded as +a too flippant spirit on the part of my old +cattleman. In the polite kindliness of his +nature he made haste to smooth down my fur.</p> +<p>"To be shore I onderstands you. As to the +real thing in hypnotism, however, thar arises +as I recalls eevents but few examples in Arizona. +The Southwest that a-way ain't the troo +field for them hypnotists, the weak-minded +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span> +among the pop'lation bein' redooced to minimum. +Now an' then of course some hypnotic +maverick, who's strayed from the eastern +range, takes to trackin' 'round among us sort +o' blind an' permiscus. But he never stays +long, an' is generally tickled to death when +some vig'lance committee so far reelents as to +let him escape back.</p> +<p>"Over in Bernilillo once, I'm present when +a mob gets its rope onto one of these yere wizards, +an' it's nothin' but the mercy of hell an' +the mean pars'mony of what outcasts has him +in charge, which saves him from bein' swung +up. Mind you, it ain't no vig'lance committee, +but a mob, that's got him.</p> +<p>"Whatever is the difference?</p> +<p>"Said difference, son, is as a spanless gulf. +A vig'lance committee is the coolest kind of +comin' together of the integrity an' the brains +of a commoonity. A mob, on the other hand, +is a chance-blown convention of deestructionists, +as savagely brainless as a pack of timber +wolves. A vig'lance committee seeks jestice; +a mob is merely out for blood."</p> +<p>"About this Bernilillo business?"</p> +<p>The old gentleman, as though the recital +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span> +might take some time, signalled the black attendant +to bring refreshments. The bottle +comfortably at his elbow, he proceeded.</p> +<p>"I was thar, as I says, but I takes no part +for either 'yes' or 'no,' bein' no more'n simply +a 'looker on in Vienna,' as the actor party observes +over in the Bird Cage Op'ry House. +Thar's one of them hypnotizin' sharps who's +come bulgin' into Bernilillo to give a show. +Nacherally the local folks raps for a showdown; +they insists he entrance some one they +knows, an' refooses to be put off by him hypnotizin' +what herd of hirelin's he's brought with +him, on the argyooment that them humbugs is +in all likelihood but cappers for his game.</p> +<p>"Thus stood up, the professor, as he calls +himself, begins rummagin' 'round for a subject. +Thar's a little Frenchman who's been +pervadin' about Bernilillo, claimin' to be a +artist. Which he's shore a painter all right. I +sees him myse'f take a bresh an' a batch of colors, +an' paint a runnin' iron so it looks so much +like wood it floats. Shore; Emil––which this +yere genius' name is Emil––as a artist that +a-way is as good as jacks-up before the draw.</p> +<p>"The hypnotic professor runs his eye over +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span> +the audjence. In a moment he's onto Emil, +an' begins to w'irl his hypnotic rope. It's Emil +bein' thin an' weakly an' bloodless, I reckon, +that attracts him. This yere Emil ain't got +bodily stren'th to hold his own ag'in a high +wind, an' the professor is on at a glance that, +considered from standp'ints of hypnotism, he +ought to be a pushover.</p> +<p>"Emil don't hone to be no subject, but them +Bernilillo hold-ups snatches onto him in spite +of his protests, an' passes him up onto the +stage to the professor. They're plenty headlong, +not to say boorish, them Bernilillo ruffians +be; speshully if they've sot their hearts on +anythin', an' pore Emil stands about the same +show among 'em as a cottontail rabbit among +a passel of owls.</p> +<p>"For myse'f, I allers adheres to a theery +that what follows is to be laid primar'ly to the +door of the Bernilillo pop'lace. Which it's +themselves, not the professor, they'd oughter've +strung up. You see this Emil artist person +blinks out onder the spells of the professor, +an' never does come to no more. The professor +hypnotizes Emil, but he can't onhypnotize +him. Thar he sets as dead as Davy Crockett.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span></div> +<p>"This yere Emil bein' shore dead, Bernilillo +sent'ment begins to churn an' wax active. Thar +ain't a well-conditioned vig'lance committee +between the Pecos an' the Colorado which, +onder the circumstances, would have dreamed +of stretchin' that professor. What he does, +them Bernilillo dolts forces him to do. As for +deceased, his ontimely evaporation that a-way +is but the frootes of happenstance.</p> +<p>"What cares the Bernilillo pop'lace, wolf +hungry for blood? In the droppin' of a sombrero +they've cinched onto the professor, an' +the only question left open is whether they'll +string him up to the town windmill or the sign +in front of the First National Bank.</p> +<p>"While them Bernilillo wolves is howlin' an' +mobbin' an' millin' 'round the professor––who +himse'f is scared plumb speechless an' is as +white as a lump of chalk––relief pushes to the +front in most onexpected shape. It's a kyard +sharp by the name of Singleton, otherwise +called the Planter, who puts himse'f in nom'nation +to extricate the professor.</p> +<p>"Climbin' onto the top step in front of the +bank, the Planter lifts up his voice for a hearin'.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span></div> +<p>"'Folks!' he shouts, 'I'm in favor of this +yere lynchin' like a landslide. But, all the +same, thar's a bet we overlooks. It's up to us +not only to be jest, but to be gen'rous. This +yere murderer, who's done blotted out the only +real artist I ever meets except myse'f, has a +wife down to the hotel. As incident to these +festiv'ties she's goin' to be a widow. Is it for +the manhood an' civic virchoo of Bernilillo to +leave a widow of its own construction broke an' +without a dollar? I hears the incensed echoes +from the Black Range roarin' back in scornful +accents "No!" Sech bein' the sityooation, as +preelim'nary to this yere hangin' I moves we +takes up a collection for that widow. Yere's +a fifty to 'nitiate the play'––at this p'int the +Planter throws a fifty-dollar bill into his hat––'an' +as I passes among you I wants every sport +to come across, lib'ral an' free, an' prove to the +world lookin' on that Bernilillo is the band of +onbelted philanthropists which mankind's +allers believed.</p> +<p>"Hat in hand, same as if it's a contreebution +box an' he's passin' the platter in church, +the Planter begins goin' in an' out through the +multitood like a meadowlark through standin' +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span> +grass. That is, he starts to go in an' out; but, +at the first motion, that entire lynchin' party +exhales like mist on the mornin' mountains. +It's the same as flappin' a blanket at a bunch +of cattle. Every profligate of 'em, at the su'gestion +he contreebute to the widow, gets +stampeded, an' thar's nobody left but the +Planter, the professor, an' me.</p> +<p>"'Which I shore knows how to tech them +ground-hawgs on the raw,' says the Planter, +as he onlooses the professor. 'If I was to have +p'inted a gun at 'em now, they'd've give me a +battle. But bein' to the last man jack a bunch +of onmitigated misers, a threat leveled at their +bankrolls sets 'em to hidin' out like quail!'</p> +<p>"The professor?</p> +<p>"The instant he's laig-free, an' without so +much as pausin' to congrachoolate his preeserver +on the power of his eloquence, he vanishes +into the night. He's headin' towards +Vegas as he's lost to sight, an' I learns later +from Russ Kishler he makes that meetropolis +more or less used up. No; he don't have no +wife. That flight of fancy is flung off by the +Planter simply as furnishin' 'atmosphere.'</p> +<p>"Wolfville never gets honored but once by +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span> +the notice of a hypnotist. This yere party +don't proclaim himse'f as sech, but bills his little +game as that of a 'magnetic healer,' an' allows +in words a foot high that he's out to 'make the +deef hear, the blind see, the lame to walk an' +the halt to skip an' gambol as doth the hillside +lamb.' Also, on them notices, the same bein' +the bigness of a hoss-blanket an' hung up lib'ral +in the Red Light, the post office, the Dance +Hall, an' the Noo York store, is a picture of +old Satan himse'f, teachin' Professor Propriety +Pratt––that bein' the name this yere neecromancer +gives himse'f––his trade.</p> +<p>"These proclamations is tacked up a full +week before Professor Pratt is doo, an' prodooces +a profound effect on Boggs, him bein' +by nacher sooperstitious to the brink of the +egreegious. The evenin' before the Professor +is to onlimber on us, he shows in Red Dog, an' +Boggs is that roused by what's been promised +in the line of mir'cles, he rides across to be +present.</p> +<p>"'It ain't that I'm convinced none,' Boggs +reports, when quaffin' his Old Jordan in the +Red Light, an' settin' fo'th what he sees, 'but +I must confess to bein' more or less onhossed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span> +by what this yere Pratt Professor does. He +don't magnetize none of them Red Dog drunkards +in person, for which he's to be exon'rated, +since no self-respectin' magnetizer would let +himse'f get tangled up with sech. He confines +his exploits to a brace of dreamy lookin' +ground owls he totes 'round with him, an' +which he calls his "hosses." What he makes +these vagrants do, though, assoomin' it's on the +squar', is a caution to bull-snakes. After he's +got 'em onder the "inflooence," they eats raw +potatoes like they're roast apples, sticks needles +into themselves same as though they're pincushions, +an' at his slightest behest performs +other feats both blood-curdlin' an' myster'ous.'</p> +<p>"We-all listens to Boggs, of course, as he +recounts what marvels he's gone ag'inst in Red +Dog, but we don't yield him as much attention +as we otherwise might, bein' preeockepied as a +public with word of a hold-up that's come off +over near the Whetstone Springs. Some bandit––all +alone––sticks up the Lordsburg coach, +an' quits winner sixty thousand dollars. Nacherally +our cur'osity is a heap stirred up, for +with sech encouragement thar's no tellin' when +he'll make a play at Monte an' the Wolfville +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span> +stage, an' take to layin' waste the fortunes +of all us gents. What is done to Lordsburg +we can stand, but a blow at our own warbags, +even in antic'pation, is calc'lated to cause +us to perk up. We're all discussin' the doin's +of this yere route agent an' wonderin' if it's +Curly Bill, when Boggs gets back from Red +Dog, with the result, as I says, that he onloads +his findin's, that a-way, on a dead kyard. Not +that this yere public inattention preys on +Boggs. He keeps on drinkin' an' talkin', same +as though, all y'ears like a field of wheat, we +ain't doin' a thing but listen.</p> +<p>"'Also,' he observes, as he tells Black Jack +to rebusy himse'f, meanwhile p'intin' up to the +poster which shows how the devil is holdin' +Professor Pratt in his lap an' laborin' for that +hypnotist's instruction; 'I shall think out a few +tests which oughter get the measure of that +mountebank. He won't find this outfit so easy +as them Red Dog boneheads.'</p> +<p>"Professor Pratt has a one-day wait in +Wolfville, not bein' able that evenin' to get the +Bird Cage Op'ry House, the same bein' engaged +by a company of histrions called the Red +Stocking Blonds. Havin' nothin' else to do, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span> +the Professor wanders yere an' thar, now in +the Red Light, now at the Noo York store, but +showin' up at the O. K. Restauraw at chuck +time both rav'nous an' reg'lar. Missis Rucker +allows she never does feed a gent who puts +himse'f outside of so much grub for the money, +an' hazards the belief it's because of a loss of +nervous force through them hypnotizin's he +pulls off. Not that she's findin' fault, for the +Professor, havin' staked her to a free ticket, +has her on his staff in the shakin' of a dice-box.</p> +<p>"The Professor don't come bulgin' among +us, garroolous an' friendly, but holds himse'f +aloof a heap, clingin' to the feelin' mebby that +to preeserve a distance is likely to swell reesults +at the Bird Cage door. Boggs, however, +ain't to be stood off by no coldness, carin' no +more for a gent's bein' haughty that a-way +than a cow does for a cobweb. Which you bet +it'll take somethin' more'n mere airs to hold +Boggs in check.</p> +<p>"It's in the O. K. Restauraw, followin' our +evenin' <i>frijoles</i>, that Boggs breaks the ice an' +declar's for some exper'ments.</p> +<p>"'Which you claims,' says he, appealin' to +the Professor, 'to make the deef hear and the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span> +blind see. Onforchoonately we're out of deef +folks at this writin', an' thar's nothin' approachin' +blindness in this neck of woods which +don't arise from licker. But aside from cures +thus rendered impossible for want of el'gible +invalids, thar's still this yere hypnotic bluff +you puts up. What Wolfville hankers for is +tests, tests about the legit'macy of which thar's +no openin' for dispoote. Wharfore I yereby +makes offer of myse'f to become your onmurmurin' +dupe. I'll gamble you a stack of bloos +you don't make me drink no water, thinkin' +it's nosepaint, same as you pretends to do with +them wretched confed'rates of yours.'</p> +<p>"The Professor is a big b'ar-built sport, an' +looks equal to holdin' his own onder common +conditions. But Boggs don't come onder the +latter head. So the Professor, turnin' diplomatic +an' compliment'ry, explains that sech +powerful nachers as Boggs' is out of reach of +his rope––Boggs bein' reepellent, besides havin' +too strong a will.</p> +<p>"'As to you, Mister Boggs, with that will +of yours,' says the Professor, 'I might as well +talk of hypnotizin' Cook's Peak.'</p> +<p>"One after another, Boggs makes parade of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span> +everybody in camp. It's no go; the Professor +waves 'em aside as plumb onfit. Missis Rucker's +got too much on her mind; in Rucker the +tides of manhood is at so low a ebb he might +die onder the pressure; Monte's too full of +nosepaint, alcohol, that a-way, bein' a nonconductor.</p> +<p>"When the Professor dismisses Monte, the +ground he puts it on excites that inebriate +to whar it reequires the united energies of +Cherokee an' Tutt to kick him off the Professor. +It's only the direct commands of Enright +which in the end indooces him to keep +the peace.</p> +<p>"'Let me at him!' he howls; 'let me get at +him! Does any one figger I'll allow some fly-by-night +charl'tan to go reeflectin' on me? +Stand back, Cherokee, get out o' the way, +Dave, till I plaster the wall with his reemains!'</p> +<p>"'Ca'm yourse'f, Monte,' says Enright, +who's come in in time to onderstand the trouble. +'Which if this hypnotizer was reely meanin' +to outrage your feelin's, it'd be different a +whole lot, an' this sod-pawin' an' horn-tossin' +might plead some jestification. But what he +says is in the way of scientific exposition, an' +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span> +nothin' said scientific's to be took insultin'. +Ain't that your view, Doc?'</p> +<p>"'Shore,' replies Peets. The Doc's been +havin' no part in the discussion, him holdin' +that the Professor, with his rannikaboo bluff +about healin', is a empirik, an' beneath his professional +contempt. 'Shore. Also, I'm free +to inform Monte that if he thinks he's goin' to +lap up red licker to the degree he does, an' +obleege folks in gen'ral to treat sech consumption +as a secret, he's got his stack down +wrong.'</p> +<p>"'Enough said,' ejacyoolates Monte, but +still warm; 'whether or no, Doc, I'm the +sot this outfit's so fond of picturin', I at least +ain't so lost to reason as to go buckin' ag'inst +you an' Enright. Jest the same, though, I'm +yere to give the news to any magnetizing +horned-toad who sows the seeds of dispoote +in this camp that, if he goes about malignin' +me, he'll shore find I'm preecisely the orange-hued +chimpanzee to wrop my prehensile +tail around him an' yank him from his +limb.'</p> +<p>"'Aside from aidin' the deef an' the blind,' +says the Professor, ignorin' Monte utter an' +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span> +addressin' himse'f to Boggs an' the public +gen'ral, 'my ministrations has been found eff'cacious +wharever the course of troo love has +not run smooth. I binds up wounds of sent'ment, +an' cures every sickness of the soul. +Which, if thar's any heart lyin' 'round loose +yereabouts an' failin' to beat as one, or a sperit +that's been disyoonited from its mate an' can't +remake the hook-up, trust me to get thar with +bells on in remedyin' sech evils.'</p> +<p>"The Professor beams as he gets this off, +mighty benignant. Texas, feelin' like the common +eye is on him, commences to grow restless.</p> +<p>"'Be you-all alloodin' to me?' he asks the +Professor, his manner approaching the petyoolant. +'Let me give you warnin', an' all on the +principle that a wink is as good as a nod to a +blind mule. So shore as you go to makin' any +plays to reyoonite me an' that divorced Laredo +wife of mine I'll c'llect enough of your hypnotizin' +hide to make a saddle-cover.'</p> +<p>"'Permit me,' says the Professor, turnin' to +Texas some aghast, 'to give you my word I +nourishes no sech deesigns. Which I'm driven +to say, however, that your attitoode is as hard +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span> +to fathom as a fifth ace in a poker deck. I in +no wise onderstands your drift.'</p> +<p>"'You onderstands at least,' returns Texas, +still morbid an' f'rocious, 'that you or any other +fortune teller might better have been born a +Digger Injun to live on lizards, sage bresh +an' grasshoppers than come messin' 'round in +my mar'tal affairs with a view to reebuildin' +'em up. My hopes in that behalf is rooined; +an' whoever ondertakes their rehabil'tation'll +do it in the smoke. What I'm out after now +is the ca'm onbroken misery of a single life, an' +I'll shore have it or have war.'</p> +<p>"'My heated friend, I harbors no notion,' +the Professor protests, 'of tryin' to make it +otherwise. Your romancin' 'round single, that +a-way, ain't no skin off my nose. An' while +I never before hears of your former bride, I'm +onable to dodge the feelin' that she herse'f +most likely might reesent to the utmost any attempt +on my part to ag'in bring you an' her +together.'</p> +<p>"Texas formyoolates no express reply, but +growls. The Professor, still with that propitiatin' +front, appeals to the rest of us.</p> +<p>"'Gents,' he says, 'this yere's the most reesentful +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span> +outfit I'm ever inveigled into tryin' +to give a show to. I certainly has no thought +of rubbin' wrong-ways the pop'lar bristles. +All I aims at is to give a exhibition of anamile +magnetism, cure what halt an' blind––if any––is +cripplin' an' moonin' about, c'llect my +<i>dinero</i> an' peacefully hit the trail. An' yet it +looks like a prejewdice exists ag'inst me yere.'</p> +<p>"'Put a leetle pressure on the curb, thar,' +interrupts Peets. 'You're up ag'inst no prejewdice. +On that bill, wharwith you've done +defaced the Wolfville walls, you makes sundry +claims. An' now you r'ars back on your +ha'nches, preetendin' to feel plumb illyoosed, +because some one seeks to put the acid on 'em.'</p> +<p>"'That's whatever!' adds Boggs; 'the Doc +states my p'sition equilaterally exact. I sees +your Red Dog show. I'll be present a whole +lot at your show to-morry night. Also, I feels +the need of gyardin' ag'inst my own credoolity. +What I sees you do in Red Dog, while not +convincin', throws me miles into the oncertain +air; an' I don't figger on lettin' you <i>vamoos</i>, +leavin' me in no sech a onsettled frame. Wharfore, +I deemands tests.'</p> +<p>"'Yere,' breaks in Nell, who's been listenin', +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span> +'what's the matter of this occult party hypnotizin' +me.'</p> +<p>"'The odd kyard in that deck,' says Cherokee, +his manner trenchin' on the baleful––'the +odd kyard in that deck is that onless this yere +occultist is cap'ble of mesmerizin' a bowie to +whar it looses both p'int an' edge, for him to +go weavin' his wiles an' guiles 'round you, +Nellie, would mark the evenin' of his c'reer.'</p> +<p>"Nell beams an' brightens at these yere +proofs of Cherokee's int'rest, while the pore +Professor looks as deeply disheveled mental +as he does when Texas goes soarin' aloft.</p> +<p>"Little Enright Peets waddles up to tell his +paw that Tucson Jennie wants him. As he +comes teeterin' along on his short cub-b'ar +laigs, fat an' 'round as forty pigs, the Professor––thinkin' +it'll mebby relieve the sityooation––stoops +down to be pleasant to little Enright +Peets.</p> +<p>"'Yere's my little friend!' he says, at the +same time holdin' out his hands.</p> +<p>"Later we-all feels some ashamed of the excitement +we displays. But the trooth is, the +Professor offerin' to caress little Enright Peets +that a-way sends us plumb off our feet. I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span> +never before witnesses any sech display of +force. Every gent starts for'ard, an' some has +pulled their guns.</p> +<p>"'Paws off!' roars Enright to the pore dazed +Professor, who comes mighty clost to rottin' +down right thar; 'in view of them announcements'––yere +Enright p'ints to the bill, whar +Satan an' the Professor is deepicted as teacher +an' poopil––'do you-all reckon we lets sech a +devil's baby as you go manhandlin' that child?'</p> +<p>"The Professor throws up his hands like +he's growing desp'rate.</p> +<p>"'Folks,' he says, 'I asks, in all hoomility, is +thar anythin' I can say or do in this yere camp +without throwing away my life?'</p> +<p>"'Shore,' returns Boggs; 'all you got to do +is give a deemonstration.'</p> +<p>"'However be I goin' to give a hypnotic +deemonstration,' returns the Professor, apparently +on the verge of nervous breakdown, +'when every possible subject is either too preeokyoopied, +or too obstinate, or too weak, or too +yoothful, or too beautiful, or too drunk? If +it's healin' you're after, bring fo'th the sickest +you've got. If he's blind an' his eye ain't +gouged plumb out, I'll make him see; if he's +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span> +lame an' his laig ain't cut plumb off, I'll make +him walk. An' now, gents, I'm through. If +these yere proffers don't suit, proceed with +my bootchery. I care less, since one day with +you-all exactin' tarrapins has rendered life so +distasteful to me that I wouldn't turn hand +or head to live.'</p> +<p>"Havin' got this off his mind, the harassed +Professor sets down an' buries his face in his +hands.</p> +<p>"'Why not introdooce him,' breaks in +Rucker, who's nosin' about, 'to that aflickted +shorthorn who comes groanin' in on the stage +last night? He's been quiled up in his blankets +with the rhoomatism ever since he hits camp. +Which if this yere imposter can make him +walk, it'll shore be kings-up with Missis +Rucker, 'cause she wants to make the bed.'</p> +<p>"'Whar's this sufferer at?' demands Boggs, +takin' the Professor by the sleeve an' with the +same motion pullin' his six-shooter. 'This yere +discussion's done reached the mark whar it's +goin' to be a case of kill or cure for some sport.'</p> +<p>"Rucker leads the way up sta'rs, Boggs an' +the Professor next, the rest trailin'. All hands +crowds into the little dark bedroom. Thar +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span> +on the bed, clewed up into a knot, lies the +rhoomatic party. As we-all files in, he draws +himse'f onder the blankets ontil nothin' but +his nose sticks out.</p> +<p>"'Professor,' says Boggs, an' his six-shooter +goes 'kluck! kluck!' mighty menacin', 'onfurl +your game! I shore trusts that you ain't +started nothin' you can't stop.'</p> +<p>"The pore Professor don't nurse no doubts. +He thinks he's in the bubblin' midst of blood +an' sudden death; wharfore, you bet, he throws +plenty of sperit into his racket. Makin' some +hostile moves with his hands––Boggs elevatin' +his gun, not bein' quite content about them +motions––the Professor yells:</p> +<p>"'Get up!'</p> +<p>"Talk of mir'cals! Which you should have +seen that rhoomatic! With one turrific squawk +he lands on his knees at the feet of Boggs, +beggin' for mercy.</p> +<p>"'Don't kill me,' he cries; 'I'll show you whar +I plants the money.'</p> +<p>"Whoever is that rhoomatic? Which he's +the stoodent who stands up the stage over by +Whetstone Springs. His rhoomatism's merely +that malefactor's way of goin' onder cover.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span></div> +<p>"The Professor later offers to divide with +Boggs on the two thousand-dollar reward the +Wells-Fargo folks pays, but Boggs shakes his +head.</p> +<p>"'You take the entire wad, Professor,' says +he, wavin' aside that gen'rous necromancer. +'It's the trophy of your own hypnotic bow +an' spear. What share is borne by my .45 +is incidental. Which I'll say, too, that if I was +playin' your hand I'd spread that cure on my +posters as the star mir'cle of my c'reer.'"</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span> +<a name='VIII_THAT_TURNER_PERSON' id='VIII_THAT_TURNER_PERSON'></a> +<h2>VIII</h2> +<h3>THAT TURNER PERSON</h3> +</div> +<p>"Talk of your hooman storm-centers an' +nacheral born hubs of grief," observed the old +cattleman, reminiscently; "I'm yere to back +that Turner person ag'inst all competitors. +Not but what once we're onto his angles, he +sort o' oozes into our regyards. His baptismal +name is 'Lafe,' but he never does deerive no +ben'fit tharfrom among us, him behavin' that +eegregious from the jump, he's allers referred +to as 'that Turner person.'</p> +<p>"As evincin' how swift flows the turbid currents +of his destinies, he succeeds in focusin' +the gen'ral gaze upon him before he's been in +camp a day. Likewise, it's jest as well Missis +Rucker herse'f ain't present none in person at +the time, or mighty likely he'd have focused +all the crockery on the table upon him, which +you can bet your last <i>peso</i> wouldn't have +proved no desid'ratum. For while Missis +Rucker ain't what I calls onusual peevish, for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span> +a lady to set thar quiet an' be p'inted to by +some onlicensed boarder as a Borgia, that away, +would be more'n female flesh an' blood +can b'ar.</p> +<p>"It's like this. The Turner person comes +pushin' his way into the O. K. Restauraw +along with the balance of the common herd, +an' pulls a cha'r up ag'inst the viands with +all the confidence of a oldest inhab'tant. +After grinnin' up an' down the table as affable +as a wet dog, he ropes onto a can of airtights, +the same bein' peaches. He he'ps himse'f +plenty copious an' starts to mowin' 'em +away.</p> +<p>"None of us is noticin' partic'lar, bein' engaged +on our own hook reachin' for things, +when of a sudden he cuts loose a screech which +would have knocked a bobcat speechless.</p> +<p>"'I'm p'isened!' he yells; 'I'm as good as +dead right now!'</p> +<p>"Followin' this yere fulm'nation, he takes +to dancin' stiff-laiged, meanwhile clutchin' hold +of the buckle on his belt.</p> +<p>"Thar should be no dissentin' voice when I +states that, at a crisis when some locoed maverick +stampedes a entire dinin' room by allowin' +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span> +he's been p'isened, prompt action should be +took. Wharfore it excites no s'rprise when +Jack Moore, to whom as kettle-tender for the +Stranglers all cases of voylance is <i>ex officio</i> +put up, capchers the ghost-dancin' Turner person +by the collar.</p> +<p>"'Whatever's the meanin' of this midprandial +excitement?' demands Jack. 'Which +if these is your manners in a dinin' room, I'd +shore admire to see you once in church.'</p> +<p>"'I'm p'isened!' howls the Turner person, +p'intin' at the airtights. 'It's ptomaines! I'm +a gone fawnskin! Ptomaines is a center +shot!'</p> +<p>"None of us holds Rucker overhigh, an' yet +we jestifies that husband's action. Rucker's +headin' in from the kitchen, bearin' aloft a +platter of ham an' cabbage. He arrives in +time to gather in the Turner person's bluff +about 'ptomaines,' an' onderstands he's claimin' +to be p'isened. Shore, Rucker don't know +what ptomaines is, but what then? No more +does the rest of us, onless it's Peets, an' he's +over to Tucson. As I freequently remarks, +the Doc is the best eddicated sharp in Arizona, +an' even 'ptomaines' ain't got nothin' on him.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span></div> +<p>"Rucker plants the platter of ham an' cabbage +on the table, an' appeals 'round to us.</p> +<p>"'Gents,' he says, 'am I to stand mootely +by an' see this tavern, the best j'int ondoubted +in Arizona, insulted?' An' with that he's down +on the Turner person like a fallin' tree, whar +that crazy-hoss individyooal stands jumpin' +an' dancin' in the hands of Moore.</p> +<p>"'What's these yere slanders,' shouts +Rucker, 'you-all is levelin' at my wife's hotel? +Yere we be, feedin' you on the fat of the land; +an' the form your gratitoode takes is to go +givin' it out broadcast you're p'isened! You +pull your freight,' he concloodes, as he +wrastles the dancin' Turner person to the +door, 'an' if you-all ever shows your villifyin' +nose inside this hostelry ag'in I'll fill you full +of buckshot.'</p> +<p>"To be shore, that crack about buckshot +ain't nothin' more'n vain hyperbole, Rucker +not possessin' the spunk of bull-snakes. The +Turner person, however, lets him get away +with it, an' submits tamely to be buffaloed, +which of itse'f shows he ain't got the heart of +a horned toad. The eepisode does Rucker a +heap of good, though, an' he puffs up immoderate. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span> +Given any party he can buffalo, +an' the way that weak-minded married man +expands his chest, an' takes to struttin', is a +caution to cock partridges. An' all the time, +a jack-rabbit, of ordinary resolootion an' force +of character, would make Rucker take to a +tree or go into a hole.</p> +<p>"Is the Turner person p'isened?</p> +<p>"No more'n I be. Which it's simple that +alarmist's heated imagination, aggravated by +what deloosions is born of the nosepaint he +gets in Red Dog before ever he makes his +Wolfville deboo at all. Two hookers of Old +Jordan from Black Jack renders him so +plumb well he's reedic'lous.</p> +<p>"Most likely you-all'd go thinkin' now that, +havin' let sech a hooman failure as Rucker put +it all over him, this Turner person'd lie dormant +a spell, an' give his se'f-respect a chance +to ketch its breath. Not him. It's no longer +away than second drink time the same evenin' +when he locks gratooitous horns with Black +Jack. To this last embroglio thar is––an' +could be––no deefense, Jack bein' so amiable +that havin' trouble with him is like goin' to +the floor with your own image in the glass. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span> +Which he's shorely a long sufferin' barkeep, +Jack is. Mebby it's his genius for forbearance, +that a-way, which loores this Turner person +into attemptin' them outrages on his sens'bilities.</p> +<p>"The Turner person stands at the bar, +sloppin' out the legit'mate forty drops. With +nothin' said or done to stir him up, he cocks +his eye at Jack––for all the world like a crow +peerin into a bottle––an' says,</p> +<p>"'Which your feachers is displeasin' to me, +an' I don't like your looks.'</p> +<p>"Jack keeps on swabbin' off the bar for a +spell, an' all as mild as the month of May.</p> +<p>"'Is that remark to be took sarkastic?' he +asks at last, 'or shall we call it nothin' more'n +a brainless effort to be funny?'</p> +<p>"'None whatever!' retorts the Turner person; +'that observation's made in a serious +mood. Your countenance is ondoubted the +facial failure of the age, an' I requests that +you turn it the other way while I drinks.'</p> +<p>"Not bein' otherwise engaged at the moment, +an' havin' time at his command, Jack +repairs from behind the bar, an' seizes the +Turner person by the y'ear.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span></div> +<p>"'An' this is the boasted hospital'ty of the +West!' howls the Turner person, strugglin' to +free himself from Jack, who's slowly but +voloominously bootin' him towards the street.</p> +<p>"It's Nell who tries to save him.</p> +<p>"'Yere, you Jack!' she sings out, 'don't +you-all go hurtin' that pore tenderfoot none.'</p> +<p>"Nell's a shade too late, however; Jack's already +booted him out.</p> +<p>"Shore, Jack apologizes.</p> +<p>"'Beg parding, Nellie,' he says; 'your least +command beats four of a kind with me; but +as to that ejected shorthorn, I has him all +thrown out before ever you gets your stack +down.'</p> +<p>"The Turner person picks himse'f out of +the dust, an', while he feels his frame for dislocations +with one hand, feebly menaces at +Black Jack with t'other.</p> +<p>"'Some day, you rum-sellin' miscreent,' he +says, 'you'll go too far with me.'</p> +<p>"As showin' how little these vicisitoodes +preys on this Turner person, it ain't ten minutes +till he's hit the middle of Wolfville's +principal causeway, roarin' at the top of his +lungs,</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span></div> +<p>"'Cl'ar the path! I'm the grey wolf of the +mountings, an' gen'ral desolation follows whar +I leads!'</p> +<p>"Yere he gives a prolonged howl.</p> +<p>"The hardest citizen that ever belted on a +gun couldn't kick up no sech row as that in +Wolfville, an' last as long as a drink of +whiskey. In half the swish of a coyote's +tail, Jack Moore's got the Turner person +corralled.</p> +<p>"'This camp has put up with a heap from +you,' says Moore, 'an' now we tries what rest +an' reeflection will do.'</p> +<p>"'I'm a wolf––!'</p> +<p>"'We savvys all about you bein' a wolf. +Also, I'm goin' to tie you to the windmill, as +likely to exert a tamin' inflooence.'</p> +<p>"Moore conveys the Turner person to the +windmill, an' ropes his two hands to one of its +laigs.</p> +<p>"'Thar, Wolf,' he says, makin' shore the +Turner person is fastened secoore, 'I shall +leave you ontil, with every element of wildness +abated, you-all begins to feel more like a domestic +anamile.'</p> +<p>"From whar we-all are standin' in front of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span> +the post office, we can see the Turner person +roped to the windmill laig.</p> +<p>"'What do you reckon's wrong with that +party?' asks Enright, sort o' gen'ral like; 'I +don't take it he's actchooally locoed none.'</p> +<p>"Thar's half a dozen opinions on the p'int +involved. Tutt su'gests that the Turner person's +wits, not bein' cinched on any too tight +by nacher in the beginnin', mebby slips their +girths same as happens with a saddle. Cherokee +inclines to a notion that whatever mental +deeflections he betrays is born primar'ly of +him stoppin' that week in Red Dog. Cherokee +insists that sech a space in Red Dog shore +ought to be s'fficient to give any sport, however +firmly founded, a decisive slant.</p> +<p>"As ag'inst both the others, Boggs holds +to the view that the onusual fitfulness observ'ble +in the Turner person arises from a +change of licker, an' urges that the sudden +shift from the beverages of Red Dog, which +last is indoobitably no more an' no less than +liquid loonacy, to the Red Lights Old Jordan, +is bound to confer a twist upon the straightest +intellectyooals.</p> +<p>"'Which I knows a party,' says Boggs, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203' name='page_203'></a>203</span> +'who once immerses a ten-penny nail in a quart +of Red Dog licker, an' at the end of the week +he takes it out a corkscrew.'</p> +<p>"'Go an' get him, Jack,' says Enright, +p'intin' to the Turner person; 'him bein' tied +thar that a-way is an inhooman spectacle, an' +if little Enright Peets should come teeterin' +along an' see him, it'd have a tendency to +harden the innocent child. Fetch him yere, +an' let me question him.'</p> +<p>"'Front up,' says Moore to the Turner person, +when he's been conveyed before Enright; +'front up now, frank an' cheerful, an' answer +questions. Also, omit all ref'rences to bein' +a wolf. Which you've worn that topic thread-bar'; +an' besides it ain't calc'lated to do you +credit.'</p> +<p>"'Whatever's the matter with you?' asks +Enright, speakin' to the Turner person +friendly like. 'Which I begins to think thar's +somethin' wrong with your system. The way +you go knockin' about offendin' folks, it won't +be no time before every social circle in the +Southwest'll be closed ag'inst you. Whatever's +wrong?'</p> +<p>"'Them's the first kind words,' ejacyoolates +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204' name='page_204'></a>204</span> +the Turner person, beginnin' to weep, 'which +has been spoke to me in months. Which if +you-all will ask me into yon s'loon, an' protect +me from that murderer of a barkeep while I +buys the drinks, I'll show you that I've been +illyoosed to a degree whar I'm no longer reespons'ble +for my deeds. It's a love affair,' he +adds, gulpin' down a sob, 'an' I've been +crooelly misonderstood.'</p> +<p>"'A love affair,' repeats Enright plenty +soft, for the mention of love never fails to hit +our old warchief whar thar't a palin' off his +fence. 'I ain't been what you-all'd call in +love none since the Purple Blossom of Gingham +Mountain marries Polly Hawkes over on +the Painted Post. Polly was a beauty, with a +arm like a canthook, an' at sech dulcet exercises +as huggin' she's got b'ars left standin' +sideways. However, that's back in Tennessee, +an' many years ago.'</p> +<p>"Enright, breshin' the drops from his eyes, +herds the Turner person into the Red Light +an' signals to Black Jack.</p> +<p>"'Onfold,' he says; 'tell me as to that love +affair wharin you gets cold-decked.'</p> +<p>"Nell abandons her p'sition on the lookout +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205' name='page_205'></a>205</span> +stool, an' shows up interested an' intent at Enright's +shoulder.</p> +<p>"Ain't I in this?' she asks.</p> +<p>"'Be thar any feachures,' says Enright to +the Turner person, 'calc'lated to offend the +y'ears of innocence?'</p> +<p>"'None whatever,' says the Turner person. +'Which I'm oncapable of shockin' the most +fastid'yous.'</p> +<p>"'Is thar time,' asks Nell of Enright, 'for +me to round up Missis Rucker an' Tucson +Jennie? Listenin' to love tales, that a-way, is +duck soup to both of 'em.'</p> +<p>"'You-all can tell 'em later, Nellie,' returns +Enright. Then, to the Turner person, 'Roll +your game, <i>amigo</i>, an' if you needs refreshment, +yere it is.'</p> +<p>"'It ain't no mighty reecital,' says the Turner +person loogubriously, 'an' yet it ought to +go some distance, among fa'r-minded gents, in +explainin' them vain elements of the weird an' +ranikaboo which more or less enters into my +recent conduct. I'm from Missouri; an' for +a livelihood, an' to give the wolf a stand-off, I +follows the profession of a fooneral director. +My one weakness is my love for Peggy Parks, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206' name='page_206'></a>206</span> +who lives with her folks out in the Sni-a-bar +hills.</p> +<p>"'The nuptual day is set, an' I goes hibernatin' +off to Kansas City to fetch the +license.'</p> +<p>"'How old be you?' breaks in Enright.</p> +<p>"'Me? I'm twenty-six the last Joone rise +of the old Missouri. As I was sayin', I +hitches my hoss in Market Squar', an' takes to +reeconoiterin' along Battle Row, wonderin' +wharever them licenses is for sale, anyway. +Final, I discovers a se'f satisfied lookin' party, +who's pattin' a dog. I goes to talkin' about +the dog, an' allowin' I'm some on dogs myse'f, +all by way of commencin' a conversation; an' +winds up by askin' whar I go for to get a +license. "Over thar," says the dog party p'intin' +across to a edifice he asshores me is a City +Hall. "First floor, first door, an' the damage +is a dollar."</p> +<p>"'Thus steered, I goes streakin' it across, +an' follows directions. I boards my dollar, +an' demands action. The outcast who's dealin' +the license game writes in my name, an' shoves +the paper across. In a blur of bliss I files it +away in my jeans, mounts my hoss, an' goes +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207' name='page_207'></a>207</span> +gambodin' back to Peggy, waitin' at ancestral +Sni-a-bar.'</p> +<p>"'Is your Peggy sweetheart pretty?' asks +Nell.</p> +<p>"'She's a lamp of loveliness! Sweet? Beetrees +is gall an' wormwood to her.</p> +<p>"'As to the weddin', it's settled Peggy an' +me is to come flutterin' from our respective +perches the next day. Doubtless we'd have +done so, only them orange blossom rites +strikes the onexpected an' goes glancin' off.</p> +<p>"'It's the Campbellite preacher, who's been +brought in to marry us, that starts it. The +play's to be made at Peggy's paw's house, +after which, for a weddin' trip, she an' me's to +go wanderin' out torwards the Shawnee Mission, +whar I've got some kin. The parson, +when he has the entire outfit close-herded +into the parlor, asks––bein' a car'ful old practitioner––to +see the license. I turns it over, +an' he takes it to the window to read. He +gives that docyooment one look, an' then glowers +at me personal mighty baleful. "Miserable +wretch," says he, "do you-all want to get +yourse'f tarred an' feathered?"</p> +<p>"'In my confoosion I thinks this outbreak +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208' name='page_208'></a>208</span> +is part of the cer'mony, an' starts to say "I +do!" Before I can edge in a word, however, +he calls over Peggy's old man. "Read that!" +he cries, holdin' the license onder old Pap +Parks' nose. Old Parks reads, an' the +next news I gets he's maulin' me with his +hickory walkin' stick like he's beatin' a +kyarpet.</p> +<p>"'Without waitin' to kiss the bride or recover +my license, I simply t'ars out the front of +the house an' breaks for the woods. The next +day, old Parks takes to huntin' me with +hounds. Nacherally, at this proof of man's +inhoomanity to man, I sneaks across into Kansas, +an' makes for the settin' sun.'</p> +<p>"'An' can't you give no guess,' says Enright, +'at why old Parks digs up the waraxe +so plumb sudden?'</p> +<p>"'No more'n rattlesnakes onborn, onless +his inordinate glee at gettin' me for a son-in-law +has done drove him off his head.'</p> +<p>"'Which it couldn't be that,' says Enright, +takin' a hard, thoughtful look at the Turner +person. Then, followin' a pause, he adds, +'thar's some myst'ry yere!'</p> +<p>"'Ain't you-all made no try,' asks Nell, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209' name='page_209'></a>209</span> +'sech as writin' letters, or some game sim'lar, +to cl'ar things up?'</p> +<p>"'You-all don't know Pap Parks, Miss, in +all his curves. Why, it's lucky he ain't wearin' +his old bowie at that weddin', or he'd a-split me +into half apples. If I goes to writin' missives +that a-way, he'll locate me; an' you can take +my word that invet'rate old homicide 'd travel +to the y'earth's eends to c'llect my skelp. That +ain't goin' to do me; for, much as I love +Peggy, I'd a heap sooner be single than dead.'</p> +<p>"'That party ain't locoed,' says Texas, +noddin' towards the Turner person, whar he +sets sobbin' in a cha'r when Enright gets +through examinin' him. 'He's simply a howlin' +eediot. Yere he escapes wedlock by a mir'cle; +an'––chains an' slavery!––now he can't +think of no better way to employ his liberty +than in cryin' his heart out because he's free. +If I'm bitter, gents, it's because I speaks from +hard experience. Considerin' how she later +corrals that Laredo divorce an' sells up my +cattle at public vandoo for costs an' al'mony, +if when I troops to the altar with that lady +whom I makes Missis Thompson, my gyardian +angel had gone at me with a axe, that faithful +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210' name='page_210'></a>210</span> +sperit would have been doin' no more than +its simple dooty in the premises.'</p> +<p>"Enright takes it onto himself to squar' the +Turner person at the Red Light an' the O. K. +Restauraw; an', since his ensooin' conduct is +much within decent bounds, except that +Rucker steps some high an' mighty when he +heaves in sight an' Black Jack gives him hard +an' narrow looks, nothin' su'gestive of trouble +occurs. In less'n a week he shakes down into +his proper place, an' all as placid as a duck-pond. +He's even a sort o' fav'rite with Nell, +Missis Rucker an' Tucson Jennie, they +claimin' that he's sufferin' from soul blight because +of a lost love. Certainly, thar's nothin' +in this yere fem'nine bluff, but of course none +of us don't say so at the time.</p> +<p>"Boggs holds that the Turner person's only +a pecooliarly gifted liar, an' refooses to believe +in him. 'Because it's prepost'rous,' says +Boggs, 'that folks would go in to frame up a +weddin', an' then, led by the preacher, take to +mobbin' the bridegroom on the very threshold +of them nuptials.'</p> +<p>"'It ain't by no means shore, Dan,' says +Texas, to whom Boggs imparts his convictions, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211' name='page_211'></a>211</span> +'but what you've drove the nail. Which +if that Parks household reely has it in for this +Turner person, they'd have let him go the +route. Could even the revenge of a fiend ask +more than simply seein' him a married man?'</p> +<p>"In about a fortnight, that Turner person's +got fully cooled out, an' the worst effects of +what Red Dog licker he imbibes has disappeared. +As he feels himse'f approachin' normal, +as Peets puts it, he mentions to Enright +casyooal like that, if the town sees nothin' +ag'in it, he reckons he'll open an ondertakin' +shop.</p> +<p>"'Not,' he says, 'that I'm the man to go +hintin' that what former foonerals has been +pulled off in these yere parts ain't been all +they should; but still, to get a meetropolitan +effect, you oughter have a hearse an' ploomes. +Let it be mine to provide them marks of a +advanced civilization. It'll make villages like +Red Dog an' Colton sing low, an' be a distinct +advantage to a camp which is strugglin' for +consid'ration. Yes, sir,' goes on the Turner +person, warmin' with the theme, 'what's the +public use of obsequies if you-all don't exhaust +'em of every ounce of good? An' how can any +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212' name='page_212'></a>212</span> +outfit expect to do this, an' said outfit shy +that greatest evidence of modern reefinement, +a hearse? Given a rosewood coffin, an' a black +hearse with ploomes––me on the box––an' the +procession linin' solemnly out for Boot Hill, +if we-all ain't the instant envy of the territory, +you can peg me out by the nearest ant hill ontil +I pleads guilty to bein' wrong.'</p> +<p>"'Thar's no need for all this yere eloquence,' +replies Enright, blandly. 'What you proposes +has been a dream of mine for years. You +open your game as fooneral director, an' if we +can't find material for you local, we'll go rummagin' +'round as far as Lordsburg an' Silver +City to supply the deficiency.'</p> +<p>"Feelin' Enright is behind him, the Turner +person goes to work with sech exyooberant enthoosiasm, +that it ain't a month before he +brings over his hearse from Tucson, said vehicle +havin' been sent on from the East. She's +shore no slouch for a catafalque neither, an' +we p'rades up an' down the street with it, gettin' +the effect.</p> +<p>"Boggs voices the common feelin'.</p> +<p>"'Thar's a conveyance,' says he, 'that comes +mighty close to robbin' death of half its sting. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213' name='page_213'></a>213</span> +Any sport is bound to cash in more content, +when he savvys that his last appearance is +bound to be a vict'ry an' he'll be freighted to +the sepulcher in a swell wagon like that.'</p> +<p>"'It is shore calc'lated to confer class on the +deeparted,' assents Tutt.</p> +<p>"These praises certainly exalts the sperits of +the Turner person a whole lot. He buys the +old Lady Gay dance hall, which, since the +goin' out of the Votes for Women S'loon, has +again become the ondispooted property of +Armstrong, makes a double-door to back in +the hearse, an' reopens that deefunct temple +of drink an' merriment as a ondertakin' establishment. +Over the front he hangs up his sign.</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>COFFIN EMPORIUM.<br /> +<br /> +L. TURNER, FUNERAL DIRECTOR.<br /> +<br /> +CORPSES SOLICITED.</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>"That sign so much uplifts the sperit of the +town it mor'n doubles the day's receipts at the +Red Light. Also, two or three shady characters +vamooses for fear of what a nacheral +public eagerness to see that hearse in action +may do.</p> +<p>"It's the day next on the hocks of the installation +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214' name='page_214'></a>214</span> +of the Turner person in business, an' +the fooneral director is lookin' out of the front +window of his coffin emporium wishin' some +gent'd start somethin' with his gun an' mebby +bump him off a load for his new hearse, when +Enright eemerges from the post office with a +iron look on his face. Peets is with him, an' +the pa'r is holdin' a pow-wow.</p> +<p>"The rest of us might have taken more notice, +only our sombreros is fittin' some tight +on account of the interest we evinces the day +prior in he'pin' la'nch the Turner person that +a-way. As it is, we bats a lackluster eye, an' +wonders in a feeble way what's done corr'gated +Enright's brow.</p> +<p>"It don't go no further than wonder, however, +ontil after a few moments talk with +Nell, Enright sends across for the Turner person. +As showin' how keenly sens'tive are the +female faculties that a-way, Missis Rucker an' +Tucson Jennie is canvassin' some infantile +mal'dy of little Enright Peets in the front +room of the O. K. House, an' same as if they +smells the onyoosual in the air, they comes +troopin' over to the Red Light to note what +happens next.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215' name='page_215'></a>215</span></div> +<p>"'Young man,' says Enright, when the +Turner person has been brought in, 'by way +of starter, let me inquire, be you preepared to +surrender your destinies, of which you're +plumb onfitted to have charge, into disgusted +albeit kindly hands?'</p> +<p>"The Turner person, some oneasy at seein' +Moore, who's carelessly toyin' with a lariat, +edgin' 'round his way, allows in tremblin' tones +he is.</p> +<p>"'Thar be those,' goes on Enright, 'who +with the best intentions in the world, has been +explorin' the ins an' outs of your Sni-a-bar +troubles, an' while the clouds is measur'ble +lifted the fresh light shed on your concerns +leaves you in a most imbecile sityooation. +Which if I thought that little Enright Peets, +not yet in techin' distance of his teens, hadn't +got no more sense than you, much as I dotes +upon that baby I'd shore vote for his deemise. +However, proceedin' with the deal, thar's this +to say: Nellie thar, writes to your Peggy +sweetheart, while I opens negotiations with old +man Parks. I plans to read you them replies, +but after advisin' with the Doc, an' collectin' +the views of Nell, it's deemed s'fficient to tell +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216' name='page_216'></a>216</span> +you what you're goin' to do, an' then head you +fo'th to its accomplishment. Our conj'int +findin's, the same bein' consented to by old +Parks in writin', an' tearfully deesired by your +Peggy sweetheart in what she commoonicates +to Nellie, is that you proceed at once to Sni-a-bar, +an' get them interrupted nuptials over. +After which you'll be free to return yere with +your bride, an' take up the hon'rable an' useful +c'reer you've marked out. As the preesidin' +officer of the Stranglers, my word is that +you be ready to start by next stage; which, +onless Monte gets so deep in licker that he +tips that conveyance over a bluff, should permit +you to clasp your Peggy to your bosom +an' kiss the tears from her cheeks by the middle +of next week.'</p> +<p>"'But,' interjects the Turner person, his +voice soundin' like the terrified bleatin' of a +sheep, 'can't you-all give me no glimmer of +what's wrong that time? I don't hanker overmuch +to go back in darkened ignorance, like +a lamb to the slaughter. What guarantee +have I got that old Parks won't lay for me +with that bootcher knife of his'n? It ain't fair +to leave me to go knockin' about, in the midst +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217' name='page_217'></a>217</span> +of perils sech as these, like a blind dog in a +meat shop.'</p> +<p>"'Your Peggy,' returns Enright, 'encloses +a letter to you by the hand of Nellie yere, +which may or may not set fo'th what insults +you perp'trates upon her fam'ly. Also, said +missive furnishes the only chance at this end +of the trail of you findin' out the len'th an' +breadth of your ignorant iniquities. For myse'f, +the thought of what you-all does that +time is so infooriatin' I must refuse to go over +it in words. Only, if in his first reesentments +old Parks had burned you at the stake, I +would not have condemned him. As to your +safety pers'nal, you can regyard it as asshored. +Your Peggy will protect you, an' +your footure parent-in-law himse'f acquits you +of everything except bein' an eediot. It's, +however, got down to whether he preefers to +have a fool in his fam'ly or see his darter +wretched for life, an' he's done nerved himse'f +to take the fool.'</p> +<p>"'Thar's your sweetheart's letter,' an' Nell +puts an envelope which smells of voylets into +the Turner person's hands.</p> +<p>"That ondertaker reads it; an' after bein' +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218' name='page_218'></a>218</span> +confoosed by shame for a moment, he begins +to cheer up.</p> +<p>"'Folks,' he says, kissin' his Peggy's letter +an' stowin' it away in his coat, 'I trusts a gen'rous +public will permit me, after thankin' +them whose kindness has smoothed out the +kinks in my affairs, to close the incident with +onlimited drinks for the camp.' That's all he +says; an' neither can we dig anything further +out of Enright or Nell.</p> +<p>"We sees the Turner person aboard the +stage, an' wishes him all kinds of luck. As +Monte straightens out the reins over his six +hosses an' cleans the lash of his whip through +his fingers, Peets vouchsafes a partin' word.</p> +<p>"'Neither I nor Sam,' says Peets, 'wants +you to go away thinkin' that you an' your +bride ain't goin' to be as welcome as roses +when you an' she comes ramblin' in as one on +your return.'</p> +<p>"'That's whatever,' coincides Nell.</p> +<p>"'Also,' breaks in Enright, 'should old +Parks go to stampin' the sod or shakin' his +horns, you-all are to put up with them deemonstrations +an' not make no aggrevatin' reemarks. +No one knows better than you by now, +how much cause you gives that proud old gent +to feel harrowed.'</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_8' id='linki_8'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-222.jpg' alt='' title='' width='391' height='602' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +<span style='font-size:smaller'>WE SEES THE TURNER PERSON ABOARD AN' WISHES HIM ALL KINDS OF LUCK. <i>p.</i> 222.</span><br /> +</p> +</div> +<p>"Of course all of us is preyed on by anxiety +to know whatever awful thing it is the Turner +person does. In the end it's Missis Rucker +who smokes Enright out.</p> +<p>"'Sam Enright,' says this yere intrepid +lady, her manner plenty darklin', 'you mustn't +forget that whenever the impulse moves me +I can shet down utter on your grub. Likewise, +as a lady, I not only knows my p'sition, +but keenly feels my rights. Which I don't +aim to coerce you, but onless you comes +through with the trooth about this yere Turner +person's felonies, some drastic steps is on their +way.'</p> +<p>"'You will see, Missis Rucker,' says Enright, +who's to be excoosed for turnin' a bit +white, 'that no present reason exists for threatenin' +me when I asshores you that as far back +as last evenin' I fully decides to lay bar' everything. +I do this, onderstand, not through +fear; but lest some folks go surmisin' round to +the inj'ry of the innocent. As I recollects back, +too, I can see how the Turner person slumps +into that mistake, him first talkin' dog to that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219' name='page_219'></a>219</span> +canine party in Battle Row, an' then askin' +whar does he go for the weddin' license.'</p> +<p>"'Sam Enright,' interrupts Missis Rucker, +whose flashin' eyes shows she's growin' hysterical, +'don't harass me with no p'intless +speeches. You say flat what it is he does, or +take the consequences.'</p> +<p>"'Why, my dear Missis Rucker,' an' Enright +makes haste with his reply, 'the thing is +easily grasped. The paper he gives the +preacher sharp is a dog license. Which that +Turner person is seekin' to wed the belle of +Sni-a-bar on a permit to keep a dog! The +canine party he meets in Battle Row misonderstands +a sityooation.'</p> +<p>"'All the same,' observes Texas to Boggs, +as the two meets that evenin' in the Noo York +store, 'thar's one feachure to a dog license, not +perceivable in a marriage license, which is +worth gold an' precious stones. Said docyooment +runs out in a year.'"</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220' name='page_220'></a>220</span> +<a name='IX_RED_MIKE' id='IX_RED_MIKE'></a> +<h2>IX</h2> +<h3>RED MIKE</h3> +</div> +<p>"Mebby you-all recalls about that Polish +artist person?" suggested the old cattleman, +tentatively; "him I speaks of former?" My +gray old <i>campañero</i> was measuring out what +he called his "forty drops," and, since this +ceremony necessitated keeping one eye on his +glass, while he endeavored to keep the other +eye on me, the contradictory effort resulted in a +wavering and uncertain expression, not at all +in harmony with his usual positive air. By +way of helping conversation, I confessed to +a clear remembrance of the "Polish artist +person," and wound up by urging him to give +the particulars concerning that interesting +exile.</p> +<p>"Well," he cautiously returned, "thar ain't +nothin' so mighty thrillin' in his Wolfville +c'reer. You see he ain't, for the most, no pop'lar +figure––him bein' a furriner, that a-way, +an' a artist, an' sufferin' besides from conceit +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221' name='page_221'></a>221</span> +in so acoote a form as to make it no exaggeration +to say he's locoed. On account of these +yere divers an' sundry handicaps, he don't +achieve no social success, an' while he's with +us, you'd hardly call him of us.</p> +<p>"Not that I objects to this deescendant of +Warsaw's last champion, personal. Which +I'm a heap like Enright in sech reespects, an' +shore tol'rant. I finds out long ago that the +reason we-all goes fault-findin' about people, +mostly is because we don't onderstand concernin' +them folk's surroundin's. Half the things +we arches our necks over, an' for which mebby +we feels like killin' 'em a whole lot, they can't +he'p none. If we only savvys what they're +reely up ag'inst, it's four for one we pities 'em +instead.</p> +<p>"It's like one time 'way back yonder, when +me an' Steve Stevenson has a sudden an' +abrupt diffukulty with a buffalo bull. We're +camped out on the edge of the Rockies near +the Spanish Peaks, an' me an' Steve, in the +course of a little <i>passear</i> we're takin', is jest +roundin' a bunch of plum bushes when, as +onexpected as a gun play in a Bible class, that +devil's son an' heir of a bull––who's been hid +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222' name='page_222'></a>222</span> +by the bushes––ups an charges. Which you +should have seen me an' Steve scatter! We +certainly do onbuckle in some hasty moves! +He's bigger 'n a baggage wagon, an' as we +leaves our guns ten rods away in camp, thar's +nothin' for it but to dig out.</p> +<p>"Nigh whar I'm at is a measley <i>pinon</i> tree, +an' the way I swarms aloft among that vegetable's +boughs an' branches comes mighty clost +to bein' a lesson to mountain lions. Steve, +who's the onluckiest sport west of the Missouri, +an' famed as sech, ain't got no tree. The +best he can do is go divin' into a hole he sees +in some rocks, same as if he's a jack-rabbit +with a coyote in hot pursoote.</p> +<p>"Me an' Steve both bein' safe, an' reegyardin' +that bull as baffled, I draws a breath of relief. +That is, to be ackerate, I starts to draw +it; but before I so much as gets it started, yere +that inordinate Steve comes b'ilin' out of his +hole ag'in like he ain't plumb satisfied about +that bull. The bull's done give him up, too, an' +switchin' his tail some thoughtful has started +to go away, when, as I tells you, that fool +Steve comes surgin' out upon his reetreatin' +hocks.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223' name='page_223'></a>223</span></div> +<p>"Nacherally, what could any se'f-respectin' +bull do but wheel an' chase Steve back? It's +no use, though; Steve won't have it. No +sooner does the bull get him hived that a-way, +an' make ready to reetire to private life ag'in, +than, bing! yere Steve comes bulgin' like a +cork out of a bottle. An' so it continyoos, a +reg'lar see-saw between Steve an' the bull. +Steve'll go into his cave of refooge, prairie-dog +fashion, a foot ahead of the bull's horns, +only to be a foot behind the bull's tail as that +painstakin' anamile is arrangin' to deepart.</p> +<p>"Which sech wretched strategy arouses my +contempt.</p> +<p>"'You dad-binged Siwash,' I yells down at +Steve, 'whyever don't you-all stay in that hole, +ontil the bull forgets whar you're at?'</p> +<p>"'Go on!' Steve shouts back, as in he dives, +head-first, for mebby it's the twentieth time; +'it's as simple as suckin' aiggs, ain't it, for you +up in your tree? You-all don't know nothin' +about this hole; thar's a b'ar in this hole!'</p> +<p>"Which I allers remembers about that dilemmy +of Steve's. An' now, when I beholds +a gent makin' some rannikaboo break, an' +everybody's scoffin' at him an' deenouncin' him +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224' name='page_224'></a>224</span> +for a loonatic or worse, I reeflects that mighty +likely if we-all was to go examine the hole he's +in, we'd find it plumb full of b'ar.</p> +<p>"Returnin' to the orig'nal proposition, the +same bein' that Polack, let me begin by sayin' +that whenever it comes to any utterances of +his'n, I'm nacherally onable to quote him exact. +What with him rollin' his 'Rs' ontil they +sounds like one of them snare drums, an' the +jiggerty-jerkety fashion wharin he chops up +his English, a gent might as soon try to quote +a planin' mill exact.</p> +<p>"That I'm able to give you-all his troo name +is doo wholly to him passin' round his kyard +a heap profoose, when he first comes ramblin' +in, said cognomen as printed bein' 'Orloff Ivan +Mitzkowanski, Artist and Painter of Portraits.' +We perooses this yere fulm'nation two +or three times, an' Peets even reads it out +loud; but since the tongue of no ordinary gent +is capable of ropin' an' throwin' it, to say nothin' +of tyin' it down, we cuts the gordian knot +in the usual way by re-christenin' him <i>pro bono +publico</i> as Red Mike, which places him within +the verbal reach of all.</p> +<p>"'Yes,' he says, as he ladles out them +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225' name='page_225'></a>225</span> +kyards, an' all with the manner of a prince +conferrin' favors––'yes, I'm a artist come to +you, seekin' subjects an' color. As you probably +observes by my name, I'm a gallant Pole, +one whose noble ancestors shrieks when Kosciusko +fell.'</p> +<p>"Him bein' a stranger that a-way, an' no +one, onless it's Peets, ever havin' heard about +Poland, or Kosciusko, or whoever does that +shriekin' the time when Kosciusko finds himse'f +bumped off, we lets Mike get by with this yere +bluff. Besides, his name of itse'f sort o' holds +us. That anyone, an' specially any furriner, +could come as far as he has, flauntin' a name +like that in the sensitive face of mankind, an' +yet live to tell the tale, is shore plenty preepar'tory +to believin' anything.</p> +<p>"When we lets it go that owin' to local conditions +we'll be obleeged to call him 'Red +Mike,' he's agree'ble.</p> +<p>"'As you will, my friends,' he cries, bulgin' +out his breast an' thumpin' it. 'What care I, +who am destined for immortality, that barbarians +should hail me as Red Mike? It is enough +that I am not destroyed, enough that I still +move an' have my bein'!'</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226' name='page_226'></a>226</span></div> +<p>"'Mike,' interjecks Tutt, bristlin' a little, +'don't cut loose in no offensive flights. It's +a heap onadvisable when addressin' us to overwork +that word "barbarian." As you says +yourself, you're lucky to be alive; which, bein' +conceded, it'd be plenty proodent on your part +not to go doin' nothin' to change your luck.'</p> +<p>"'Steady thar, Dave,' says Enright, 'don't +go exhibitin' your teeth to a pore benighted +furriner, an' him not onto our curves.'</p> +<p>"'Him bein' a furriner,' retorts Tutt, 'is +but a added argyooment in favor of him takin' +heed. Speakin' for myse'f, I in partic'lar +don't want no furriner to step on my tail an' +stand thar, same as if my feelin's ain't goin' to +count.'</p> +<p>"'Be composed, my friend,' says Mike, +tryin' to follow Enright out an' squar' himse'f +with Tutt––'be composed. I reetract the +"barbarians" an' suggest a drink.'</p> +<p>"'That's all right, Mike,' returns Tutt, +who's easy mollified; 'still I onreservedly says +ag'in that in Arizona thar's nothin' in becomin' +too difoose. All that this time lets you out, +Mike, is that havin' jest had our feed we're +happ'ly lethargic. Which if you'd let fly that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227' name='page_227'></a>227</span> +crack about barbarians, an' us not fed none, +some gent not otherwise employed 'd have +seized upon you as a mop-rag wharwith to +wipe up the floor.'</p> +<p>"Thar's allers a dispoote as to whether or +no Mike reely commits sooicide that time. +Tutt an' Texas holds to the last that his light +gettin' blowed out like it does is accidental. +Peets, however, insists it's a shore-enough sooicide. +Of course, Boggs goes with Peets. +Whatever's the question at bay, Boggs never +fails to string his play with the Doc's; it's +Boggs's system. All you has to do to get a +rise out o' Boggs is get some opinion out o' +Peets. Once the Doc declar's himse'f, Boggs +is right thar to back said declaration for his +last dollar every time.</p> +<p>"As sustainin' his claim of sooicide, Peets +p'ints out that thar's no gent, not a howlin' +eediot complete, but knows s'fficient of giant +powder to be dead on to how it's cap'ble of +bein' fired by friction.</p> +<p>"'Why,' he says, eloocidatin' his p'sition, +'even darkened savages is posted as to that. I +once sees a South Sea Islander, in a moose-yum +East, who sets a bunch of shavin's in a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228' name='page_228'></a>228</span> +blaze by rubbin' together two sticks. An' this +yere Mike is a eddycated sharp, eddicated at +a Dutch outfit called Heidelberg. Do you-all +reckon a gradyooate of sech a sem'nary ever +walks out on a cold collar, him not wise, an' +performs in the numbskull fashions as this +yere Mike?'</p> +<p>"'That's whatever!' chimes in Boggs.</p> +<p>"As I tells you, any emphatic idee laid +down by Peets instantly sets Boggs to strikin' +same as one of them cuckoo clocks.</p> +<p>"Enright?</p> +<p>"The old silver tip stands nootral, not sidin' +with either Peets an' Boggs or Tutt an' Texas.</p> +<p>"'Which this yere Mike bein' shore dead,' +says Enright, 'strikes me as s'fficient. I plants +my moccasins on that, an' don't go pirootin' +an' projectin' about for no s'lootions which +may or may not leave me out on a limb.'</p> +<p>"You recalls how it's Monte who, while +gettin' drunk with him over to the Oriental +S'loon in Tucson, deloodes Mike into p'intin' +our way. Also, what Enright says to that deboshed +stage driver for so doin'. Enright's +shore fervent on that occasion, an' the language +he uses would have killed two acres of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229' name='page_229'></a>229</span> +grass. But that don't he'p none. After the +dust Enright paws up has settled, thar's Mike +still, all quiled up in the Wolfville lap.</p> +<p>"Thar's a worse feachure, the same bein' +Mike's wife. She's as young, an' mighty nigh +as lovely, too, as Nell; only she's blind, +this yere Mike's girl wife is, blind as any midnight +mole. Besides her, an' a armful of paint +breshes an' pictures, about all Mike's got in +the way of plunder is a ten-dollar bill. If it's +only Mike, we-all might have thickened our +hides a heap, an' let him go jumpin' sideways +for his daily grub, same as other folks. But +girls must be fed, speshully blind ones.</p> +<p>"Which this egreegious Mike, who calls +her his 'little Joolie,' allows her bein' blind that +a-way is why he marries her.</p> +<p>"'It inshores her innocence,' he says; 'because +it inshores her ignorance of the world.'</p> +<p>"'Likewise,' remarks Peets, as we stands +discussin' this yere reasonin' of Mike's in the +Red Light, 'it inshores her ignorance of them +onmitigated pictures he paints. Which if ever +she was just to get one good look at 'em, he +couldn't hold her with a Spanish bit. But you-all +knows how it is, Sam?'––Yere Peets clinks +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230' name='page_230'></a>230</span> +his glass, an' all mighty sagacious, ag'inst Enright's––'The +wind is tempered to the shorn +lamb. On the whole, I ain't none convinced +that her bein' blind, that a-way, ain't for the +best.'</p> +<p>"To look at this little Joolie, you-all'd +never know she can't see none. Her eyes is +big an' soft an' deep, an nothin' queer about +'em except they has a half-blurred, baby look. +Peets allows it's the nerve bein' dead which +does it. But blind or not, little Joolie shore +dotes on that Red Mike husband of hers, as +though he's made of love an' gold. Which +he's her heaven!</p> +<p>"While it's evident, after a ca'm an' onbiased +consideration of his works, that from +standp'ints of art this yere Mike's about sign-painter +size, little Joolie regyards him as the +top-sawyer genius of this or any other age.</p> +<p>"'He'll revolutionize the world of art,' she +declar's to Nell, who's mighty constant about +goin' to see her; 'Ivan'––she pronounces it +'Vahn'––'is ondoubted destined to become the +founder of a noo school.'</p> +<p>"'An' her face,' goes on Nellie, as she tells +us about it over to the O. K. Restauraw one +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231' name='page_231'></a>231</span> +evenin', after Mike an' his little Joolie wife's +done pulled their freight for the night––'an' +her face glows with the faith of a angel! So +if any of you-all boys finds occasion to speak +of this yere Mike in her presence, you be shore +an' sw'ar that, as an artist, he's got nacher +backed plumb off the lay-out.'</p> +<p>"'The wretch who fails,' adds Missis +Rucker, plenty fierce, 'don't wrastle his hash +with me no more! You can gamble that marplot +has tackled his final plateful of slapjacks +at the O. K. House, an' this yere's notice to +that effect.'</p> +<p>"It's a cinch, of course, that none of us is +that obtoose as to go sayin' anything to pain +this yere blind little Joolie; at the same time +no one regyards it as feas'ble to resent them +threats of Missis Rucker! She's a mighty +sperited matron, Missis Rucker is, sperited to +the verge of bein' vindictive, an' rubbin' her +fur the wrong way is the same as rubbin' a +bobcat's fur the wrong way. As a exercise +thar's nothin' in it. Besides, we're plumb used +to it, owin' to her threatenin' us about one +thing or another constant. Menaces, that +a-way, is Missis Rucker's style.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232' name='page_232'></a>232</span></div> +<p>"Mike an' his Joolie wife don't live at the +O. K. House, but only gets their chuck thar. +He allows that to do jestice to his art he's got +to have what he calls a 'no'th light,' an' so he +goes meanderin' out on the no'th side of town, +an' jumps a empty shack.</p> +<p>"Driv by a lack of money, mighty likely, +Mike ain't in camp a week before he makes it +plenty plain that, onless he's headed off or +killed, he's goin' to paint Enright a whole lot. +As a preelim'nary he loores a passel of us over +to his wickeyup to show us samples.</p> +<p>"'That's my chef dever,' he says, bringin' +for'ard a smudgy lookin' canvas, plastered all +over with reds an' browns.</p> +<p>"We-all takes a slant at it, maintainin' ourselves +meanwhile as grave as a passel of owls. +An' at that the most hawk-eyed in the outfit +can't make it look like nothin'. We-all hangs +back in the straps, an' waits for Peets to take +the lead. For thar is the pretty little blind +Joolie wife, all y'ears an' lovin' int'rest, an' +after what Nell an' Missis Rucker has done +said the gent who lacerates her feelin's is lost. +In sech a pinch Peets is our guidin' light.</p> +<p>"'Massive!' says Peets, after a pause.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233' name='page_233'></a>233</span></div> +<p>"'Which she's shore a heap massive!' we +murmurs, followin' Peets' smoke.</p> +<p>"'An' sech atmosphere!' Peets goes on.</p> +<p>"'Atmosphere to give away!' we echoes.</p> +<p>"At these yere encomiyums the pore pleased +face of little Joolie is beamin' like the sun. +As for Mike, he assoomes a easy attitoode, +same as though compliments means nothin' to +him.</p> +<p>"'What's the subject?' Peets asks.</p> +<p>"'That, my friend, is the <i>Linden in October</i>,' +returns Mike, as though he's showin' us +a picture of heaven's front gate. 'Yes, the +<i>Linden in October</i>.'</p> +<p>"'Which if this yere Pole,' whispers Texas +to Cherokee, 'is able to make anything out +of that smear, he can shore see more things +without the aid of licker than any sport +that ever spreads his blankets in Cochise +County.'</p> +<p>"Texas is a heap careful not to let either +Mike or the little Joolie girl ketch on to what +he says.</p> +<p>"Also, it's worth recallin' that Mike an' the +little Joolie is the only wedded pa'r, of which +the Southwest preeserved a record, that don't +bring bilious recollections to Texas of his former +Laredo wife.</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_9' id='linki_9'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-238.jpg' alt='' title='' width='391' height='600' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +<span style='font-size:smaller'>"WHAT'S THE SUBJECT?" PEETS ASKS. "THAT, MY FRIEND, IS THE 'LINDEN IN OCTOBER,'" RETURNS MIKE, AS THOUGH HE'S A SHOWIN' US A PICTURE OF HEAVEN'S FRONT GATE. <i>p.</i> 238.</span><br /> +</p> +</div> +<p>"'Not but what thar's a wrong thar, Doc,' +he insists, the time Peets mentions it; 'not but +what this yere Red Mike-Joolie sityooation +harbors a wrong. Only it's onavailable to +'llustrate the illyoosage I suffers at the hands +of my Laredo wife.'</p> +<p>"After the <i>Linden</i> Mike totes out mebby it's +a dozen other smeary squar's of canvas. We +goes over 'em one by one, cockin' our eyes an' +turnin' our heads first one way an' then another, +like a bloo jay peerin' into a knothole. +When Peets lets drive something about 'sky +effects,' an' 'fore-grounds,' an' 'middle-distance,' +we stacks in all sim'lar. Thar's nothin' +to it; Mike an' the little Joolie girl puts in a +mighty pleasant hour.</p> +<p>"Mike, feelin' hospit'ble, an' replyin' to a +thirsty look which Jack Moore sort o' sheds +about the room, reegrets he ain't got no +whiskey.</p> +<p>"'My little Joolie objectin',' he explains.</p> +<p>"'Oh, well,' speaks up Peets, who's plumb +eager to bring them art studies to a wind-up, +'when thar's famine in Canaan thar's corn in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234' name='page_234'></a>234</span> +Egypt. S'ppose we-all goes romancin' over +to the Red Light an' licker up. Thar's nothin' +like nosepaint, took internal, for bringin' out +a picture's convincin' p'ints.'</p> +<p>"'Right you be, Doc,' says Moore. 'It's +only last week, when I myse'f cuts the trail +of Monte, who, as the froote of merely the +seventh drink, is sheddin' scaldin' tears over +a three-sheet poster stuck onto the corral gate. +This yere stampede in color deepicts the death +of "Little Eva," as preesented in the <i>Uncle +Tom</i> show ragin' over to the Bird Cage Op'ry +House. Monte allows it's one of the most +movin' things he's ever met up with, an' protests +between sobs ag'inst takin' out the stage +that day for its reg'lar trip. "Which it's a +hour for mournin'," he groans; an' he's shore +shocked when the company insists. As he +throws free the brake he shakes the tears from +his eyes, an' says, "These yere corp'rations +ain't got no heart!"'</p> +<p>"If thar's ever any chance of Enright bein' +that weak the sight of them smudges an' +smears settles it, an' while we stands shovin' the +Old Jordan along the Red Light bar, he allows +to Mike that on the whole he don't reckon +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235' name='page_235'></a>235</span> +he'll have himse'f painted none. Rememberin', +however, that it's a ground-hawg case with +Mike, who needs the money, Enright gives +him a commission to paint Monte.</p> +<p>"'Him bein' a histor'cal character, that +a-way,' says Enright.</p> +<p>"Monte is over in Tucson, but you should +have heard that drunkard's language when he's +told.</p> +<p>"'Whatever be you-all tryin' to do to me, +Sam?' he wails. 'Ain't a workin' man got no +rights? Yere be I, the only gent in camp who +has actchooal dooties to perform, an' a plot is +set afoot behind my back to make me infamous!'</p> +<p>"'It's to go over the Red Light bar,' explains +Enright, 'to be a horr'ble example for +folks with a tendency to over-drink. As for +you yellin' like a pig onder a gate, who is it, +I asks, that beguiles this indigent artist party +into camp, an' leaves him on our hands? +Bein' he's yere, I takes it that even your +whiskey-drowned intell'gence ree'lizes that this +yere Mike, an' speshully the little blind Joolie, +has got to be fed.'</p> +<p>"'Well, gents,' returns Monte, gulpin' +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236' name='page_236'></a>236</span> +down his grief with his nosepaint, 'I reckons +if it's your little game to use me as a healthful +moral inflooence, I'd lose out to go puttin' up +a roar. All the same, as sufferer in chief, I'm +entitled to be more consulted by you uplifters +before ever you arranges to perpetchooate me +to poster'ty as a common jeer.'</p> +<p>"Shore; these yere protests of Monte's ain't +more'n half on the level. After a fashion, he's +plenty pleased.</p> +<p>"'For,' he says, confidin' in Black Jack over +his licker, 'it ain't every longhorn of a stage +driver whose picture is took by one of these +yere gifted Yooropeans.'</p> +<p>"Black Jack agrees to this in full, for he's +a good-hearted barkeep, that a-way.</p> +<p>"In doo time the picture's hung up back of +the Red Light bar. Regyarded as a portrait +it's shore some desp'rate, an' even Enright sort +o' half reepents. Monte, after studyin' it +a while, begins to get sore in earnest. Them +scales, like the scriptoors say, certainly do fall +from his eyes.</p> +<p>"'Jack,' he says, appealin' to Moore, who +happens to be present, 'does that thing look +like me?'</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237' name='page_237'></a>237</span></div> +<p>"'Why, yes,' Jack replies, squintin' his left +eye a heap critical; 'to be shore it flatters you +some, but then them artists gen'rally does.'</p> +<p>"'Jack, if I'm that feeble as to go believin' +what you says, I'd borry a shotgun from the +express company and blow off the top of my +head. That ain't the portrait of no hooman +bein"––an' Monte raises a dispa'rin' hand +at the picture; 'it's a croode preesentation of +some onnacheral cross between a coyote and +a cowskin trunk.'</p> +<p>"Cherokee gets up from behind his lay-out, +an' strolls over so's to get a line on the picture. +He takes a long an' disparagin' survey.</p> +<p>"'It ain't that I'm incitin' you to voylence, +Monte,' he remarks final, 'but if you owes a +dooty to s'ciety, don't forget that you owes +also a dooty to yourse'f. You'll be lackin' in +se'f-respect if you don't give Sam Enright two +weeks to take that outrage down, an' if it ain't +removed by then you'll bust it.'</p> +<p>"Black Jack is ag'in the picture, too.</p> +<p>"'Not,' he says, 'that I wants to put the +smother on it entire; only I figger it'd look +better in the post office, folks not makin' it so +much of a hangout. Regyarded commercial, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238' name='page_238'></a>238</span> +it's a setback to the Red Light. Some gent +comes trackin' up intent on drinks, an' feelin' +gala. After one glance at Monte up thar +it's all off. That reveller's changed his mind, +an' staggers out into the open ag'in without a +word. The joint is daily knocked for about +the price of a stack of bloos, as the direct result +of that work of art. Which I'd as soon +have a gila monster in the winder.'</p> +<p>"Mike ain't present none when all this yere +flattery is flyin'. If he was thar in person +nothin' would have been said. Whoever'd be +that hardened as to go harrowin' up the sens'tive +soul of a artist, even if his work don't +grade as corn-fed?</p> +<p>"Some later tribyoote to his talents, however, +reaches the y'ears of Mike. On the back +of Black Jack's protests the Lightnin' Bug, +who's come over from Red Dog for a little +visit, drifts in. When he sees Monte's portrait +his eyes lights up like a honka-tonk on Saturday +night.</p> +<p>"'Rattlesnakes an' stingin' lizards!' he cries; +'which I'm a Mexican if you-all ain't gone an' +got him painted! However do you-all manage? +I remembers when we captures him it's +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239' name='page_239'></a>239</span> +the last spring round-up but one. Two weeks +goes by before ever we gets him so he'll w'ar +clothes! An' even then we-all has to blindfold +him an' back him in!'</p> +<p>"'Whoever do you reckon that is, Bug?' +asks Black Jack.</p> +<p>"'It's that locoed Digger Injun, ain't it?' +says the Bug; 'him we corrals, that time, livin' +on ants an' crickets, an' roots an' yarbs, over +in Potato canyon?'</p> +<p>"'It's Monte.'</p> +<p>"'Monte! Does anybody get killed about +it?'</p> +<p>"Black Jack mentions Mike as the artist.</p> +<p>"'What, that Dutch galoot with the long +ha'r?' says the Bug.</p> +<p>"'Which he's a Pole.'</p> +<p>"'Pole or Dutchman, what's the odds? I +sees a party back in Looeyville whose ha'r's +most as long as his. We entices him to a +barber shop on a bet to have it cut, an' I'm +ag'in the union if four flyin' squirrels don't +come scootin' out. They've been nestin' in it.'</p> +<p>"The Bug swings lightly into the saddle +after a while, an' goes clatterin' back to Red +Dog. No notice would have been took of what +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240' name='page_240'></a>240</span> +he says, only Monte, who hears it from Black +Jack, is that malev'lent he goes an' tells +Mike.</p> +<p>"'You-all will make trouble between 'em, +Monte,' Nell reemonstrates, when Monte's +braggin' in his besotted way about what he's +done.</p> +<p>"'That's all right, Nellie. Both of 'em's +been insultin' me; Mike by paintin' me so I'm +a holy show, an' the Bug by lettin' on to take +me for a Digger buck. S'ppose the Bug downs +Mike, or Mike does up the Bug? Either way +it's oats in your uncle Monte's feed box. +That's me, Nellie; that's your old uncle Monte +every time! Which, when it comes to cold intrigue, +that a-way, I'm the swiftest sport in +our set.'</p> +<p>"On hearin' about the Bug from Monte +Mike gets plenty intemp'rate. He goes plumb +in the air, an' stays thar. He gives it out that +he's goin' to prance over to Red Dog an' lay +for the Bug. Nothin' but blood is goin' to do +him.</p> +<p>"Thar's nothin' we can say or do to stop +Mike, so after talkin' it over a spell we deecides +to throw him loose, Enright first sendin' +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241' name='page_241'></a>241</span> +word that he's harmless, an' not to be bumped +off.</p> +<p>"Upon receivin' Enright's word the Red +Dog chief passes on a warnin' to the Bug. +Mike mustn't, onder no circumstances, be +killed. Bein' he's a artist he's not reespons'ble.</p> +<p>"'Me kill him!' cries the Bug, who's scandalized +at the idee; 'me take a gun to sech a +insect! Gents, I've too much reespect for +them good old faithful .45's of mine to play it +as low down on 'em as all that.'</p> +<p>"Which there leeniencies I allers feels is on +account of the little Joolie, an' the blind love +she entertains for Mike. When the worst does +come we carefully conceals from her the troo +details, an' insists that the powder house goes +off by itse'f.</p> +<p>"Then Nell, with Tucson Jennie and Missis +Rucker to back her, carries the little Joolie +girl the news. It's shore tough papers; an' +Missis Rucker an' Tucson Jennie is kept racin' +an' runnin' an' riotin' between the O. K. House +an' Mike's wickeyup, freightin' over camphor +an' sim'lar reestor'tives to the little Joolie all +night long, while Nellie holds her head.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242' name='page_242'></a>242</span></div> +<p>"Does Mike's kickin' the bucket leave the +little Joolie broke? It's this a-way: You see +we-all chips in, an' makes up a fa'rly moderate +pile to buy the <i>Linden in October</i>.</p> +<p>"'It's to remember your gifted husband by,' +explains Enright, as him an' Peets an' Boggs +goes over to clink down the gold, an' get the +<i>Linden</i>. 'This yere transcendent spec'men +shall never leave our hands.'</p> +<p>"'Not while we live!' declar's Peets.</p> +<p>"'It's a marv'lous picture!' returns the little +Joolie girl, proud and tearful both at once.</p> +<p>"'Marv'lous!' repeats Peets; 'it's got the +<i>Angelus</i> beat four ways from the Jack.'</p> +<p>"'Which I should remark!' puts in Boggs. +'Why, Doc, this yere <i>Linden</i> of ours shore +makes that <i>Angelus</i> thing look like an old beer +stamp.'</p> +<p>"These yere outpourin's of onreestricted admiration +shore does set the little Joolie to smilin' +through her tears. Also, the bankroll +they brings her sends her back to her folks +in style.</p> +<p>"So you don't regyard it as the proper caper +to go deceivin' the little Joolie girl? That's +preecisely the p'sition a Bible sharp over in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243' name='page_243'></a>243</span> +Tucson takes, when some party's mentionin' +the business.</p> +<p>"'You go tell that doubtin' Thomas of a +sky-pilot,' says Peets, on hearin' about it, 'that +he can bet a ton of Watts' hymn books on it. +You-all say, too, for his pulpit guidance, that +what looks like deceit, that a-way, is often simple +del'cacy, while Christian charity freequent +w'ars the face of fraud.'</p> +<p>"But I'm gettin' ahead of the wagons. +Mike, who's a heap heated, goes lookin' for the +Bug in the Tub of Blood S'loon. The Bug +don't happen to be vis'ble no whar in the +scen'ry when Mike comes clatterin' in. By +way of a enterin' wedge Mike subscribes for a +drink. As the Tub barkeep goes settin' out +the glasses Mike, with his custom'ry gifts for +gettin' himse'f in wrong, starts fomentin' +trouble. An' at that it's simply his ignorance, +an' a conceited deesire to show off among them +Red Dogs.</p> +<p>"As the Tub barkeep slams down the crockery +Mike barks up sort o' sharp an' peevish:</p> +<p>"'The ice! Ain't you people got no ice?'</p> +<p>"The Tub barkeep takes a sour squinch-owl +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244' name='page_244'></a>244</span> +look at Mike. Then he goes softly swabbin' +off the counter.</p> +<p>"After a while he looks up an' says:</p> +<p>"'Which you don't notice no swirlin' drifts +of snow outside, do you? You ain't been swallowed +up in no blizzard, be you, comin' into +town? No, my stilted, stiff-laigged sheep of +the mountain, we ain't got no ice.'</p> +<p>"Mike, feelin' some buffaloed by the barkeep's +manner, don't say no more. In silence +he drinks his licker, an' then sets down at a +table.</p> +<p>"The barkeep, with the tail of his eye, continyoos +to look him over.</p> +<p>"'Whatever do you make of that crazy +maverick,' he asks of a freighter, who's jest +rolled in from Lordsburg. 'The idee of him +askin' for ice in August!'</p> +<p>"'Mebby he's the ha'r-brained party they +sends word about from Wolfville,' the freighter +replies––'him who's out to crawl the Bug's +hump a whole lot?'</p> +<p>"'That's the identical persimmon!' exclaims +the barkeep, slammin' his hand on the counter. +'Which I ought to have knowed it without +bein' told. I wonder if Peets, or some of them +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245' name='page_245'></a>245</span> +other Wolfville sports, puts him up to come +bully-raggin' round yere about ice to insult +us?'</p> +<p>"The freighter allows he'll edge into a pow-wow +with Mike, an' feel him out.</p> +<p>"Planted at the same table, the freighter an' +Mike is soon as thick as thieves. They're gettin' +along like two pups in a basket, when in +comes a disturbin' element in the shape of one +of them half-hoss half-alligator felons, whose +distinguishin' characteristic is that they're allers +grouchy an' hostile. That's the drawback +to Red Dog. It certainly is the home camp +of some of the most ornery reptiles, that +a-way!</p> +<p>"The grouchy sorehead party, from the +jump, gets dissatisfied about Mike's ha'r, +which he w'ars a foot long same as all artists. +Which a gent can't be no painter onless he's +got ha'r like a cow pony. The sorehead party +marches up an' down by the table whar Mike +an' the freighter is swappin' lies, schemin' as +to how he's goin' to make a warlike hook-up +with Mike. After a spell he thinks he sees his +way through, an' rounds to an' growls.</p> +<p>"'What's that? Does one of your onparalleled +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246' name='page_246'></a>246</span> +tarrapins say something deerog'tory +about George Washin'ton?'</p> +<p>"Both the freighter an' Mike looks up some +amazed, but pleads not guilty. They ain't, +they says, even thinkin' of Washin'ton.</p> +<p>"'Which I begs your parding,' returns +Sorehead, snortin' mighty haughty an' elab'rate; +'I fancies I hears some one make some +onbecomin' remark about Washin'ton. Mighty +likely it's that licker I drinkt last night.'</p> +<p>"Two minutes later he halts ag'in.</p> +<p>"'It ain't possible I'm mistook this time. +An' at that I don't precisely ketch what you +offensive ground-owls is observin' about +Thomas Jefferson?'</p> +<p>"Mike an' the Lordsburg freighter insists +vehement that thar's been no alloosion to Jefferson, +none whatever.</p> +<p>"'Parding!' Sorehead snorts; 'ag'in I asks +parding! As former, I finds I'm barkin' at a +bunch of leaves. My y'ear deeceives me into +thinkin' that you two fool ground-owls is indulgin' +in reecrim'nations ag'inst Thomas Jefferson.'</p> +<p>"It's the third time, an' Sorehead's back, +neck bowed an' fingers workin'.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247' name='page_247'></a>247</span></div> +<p>"'Now thar's no error! Which one of you +cheap prairie dogs makes that low-flung statement +about old Andy Jackson? Let him +speak up, an' I'll give him a hundred dollars +before devourin' his heart.'</p> +<p>"'No one mentions Jackson,' says Mike, +who's becomin' frightened an' fretted; 'whatever's +the idee of any one talkin' about Jackson, +anyhow?'</p> +<p>"'Oh, ho! Perhaps, my bold galoot, you +think old Andy ain't worth talkin' about!'</p> +<p>"Sayin' which, that sorehead malcontent +reaches for Mike, an' the two go sailin' 'round +the room permiscus. Sorehead picks Mike up, +an' sweeps a cord or two of glasswar' off the +bar with him. Then he employs him in bringin' +down a picture from the wall. After which +he nacherally tosses him hither an' yon in the +most irrel'vant way.</p> +<p>"Sorehead has jest reached up with Mike, +an' smashed a chandelier carryin' fourteen +coal-oil lamps, when in t'ars the Lightnin' Bug, +white an' frothin'. The Bug don't waste no +time lookin' for holds, but casyooally, yet no +less s'fficiently, snags onto Sorehead. Fixin' +his ten claws in him, the Bug fo'thwith embarks +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248' name='page_248'></a>248</span> +upon sech feats in the way of ground +an' lofty tumblin' with that gladiator, as to +make what happens to Mike seem pooerile.</p> +<p>"'Don't you-all know,' shouts the Bug, as, +havin' done broke a cha'r with Sorehead, he +proceeds to deevote what's left of him to +smashin' a table––'don't you-all know, you +abandoned profligate, that this yere artist +you've been maltreatin' is a pers'nal friend of +mine, yere present in Red Dog to confab with +me on important affairs? An' is it for a houseless +sot like you to take to minglin' with him +malignant? Yereafter don't you-all so much +as presoome to breathe without first gettin' my +permission so to do in writin'!'</p> +<p>"As closin' the incident the Bug sends Sorehead +hurtlin' through a window, sash an' all. +After which he dusts off his hands an' says:</p> +<p>"'Gents, let's licker.'</p> +<p>"The barkeep's that gratified he declar's the +drinks is on the Tub.</p> +<p>"'Also, the glass an' sash, Bug,' he adds.</p> +<p>"Bein' refreshed, the Bug tenderly collects +Mike, who's in a frayed an' fragmentary condition, +an' gently freights him over to us on a +buckboard. It's a week before Peets allows +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249' name='page_249'></a>249</span> +he's ag'in ready for the show ring, an' he uses +up enough co't plaster on him to kyarpet the +Red Light. Little Joolie? We let's on to her +that Mike meets up with a she grizzly an' her +cubs, an' while he cleans up that fam'ly he +nacherally gets chewed.</p> +<p>"'Mike's shorely some abrated, ma'am,' explains +Peets; 'but he's mendin' fast. When I +first lays eyes on him, after he encounters that +bevy of b'ars, it's a question if his skin'll hold +his principles. But don't take on, Ma'am; +now I've got him headed right he'll be as good +as new in a week. Don't forget, too, that he +shore does land that band of grizzlies in the +scrap-heap.'</p> +<p>"Mike emerges from the hands of Peets +filled with a pecooliar furrin' form of wrath, +an' talkin' about his honor. It's Sorehead he's +after now. As a noble Pole, he says, he has +been most contoomeliously used, an' insists +upon a dooel. Not with the Bug, who's withdrew +them orig'nal jedgments concernin' old +Monte's portrait, an' substitooted tharfor the +view that said picture's bound to become the +artistic pride an' joy of Arizona. Mike wants +to fight the onreegen'rate Sorehead.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250' name='page_250'></a>250</span></div> +<p>"In the flush of their new friendship Mike +asks the Bug to heel an' handle him. Also, +it's warmin' to your better nacher to note the +enthoosiasm wharwith the Bug takes up his +dooties.</p> +<p>"'It'll be six-shooters at ten paces,' he explains +to Mike; 'an' if you only shoots like you +paints, we'll send that tramp whar the wicked +cease from troublin' an' the weary are at rest.'</p> +<p>"The Red Dog chief gives his word to Enright +that Mike ain't in no danger.</p> +<p>"'Comin' down to cases,' says the Red Dog +chief; 'it's even money that this yere Sorehead +crawfishes. If he don't we've got it all set up +to hand him the Bug, instead of that Red Mike +artist of yours. So you see thar's lit'rally +nothin' for you-all wolves to worry over at all.'</p> +<p>"'We-all wolves ain't in the habit of worryin' +to any astoundin' extent,' returns Enright, +some rigid; 'none the less, I allows I'll take a +look through the sights myse'f, merely by way +of makin' shore which way the gun is p'inted. +Thar's reasons, one of 'em a lovin' little blind +girl, why we're not so plumb partic'lar about +havin' this yere alleged artist party put over +the jump.'</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251' name='page_251'></a>251</span></div> +<p>"The fight's a week away, an' by advice of +the Bug, Mike decides to put a polish on his +shootin'. This yere's reckoned a bright idee, +the more since as near as we-all can jedge Mike +never does pull a trigger once since when his +mother rocks his cradle an' warms his milk.</p> +<p>"'Only,' warns Enright, as Mike goes makin' +prep'rations, 'don't you-all go aimin' towards +town none. We don't want no neeophytes +bombardin' the village, which y'ar in an' +y'ar out sees bullets enough in the nacheral +onfoldment of eevents.'</p> +<p>"Mike, not havin' no gun, borrys a .45 of +Moore. Thus equipped, he secoores some +cartridges at the Noo York store, an' la'nches +forth. No one goes with him, since he allows +he'll shoot better if he's by himse'f.</p> +<p>"Thar's a powder house, belongin' to the +Copper Queen Mine, about a mile outside of +town. It stands off by itse'f an' nothin' near +it, no one honin' much to live neighbor to a ton +or two of powder. It's about fifth drink time +the mornin' Mike seelects for his practice +shootin' when, like a bolt from the bloo, that +Copper Queen powder house goes up with a +most emphatic whang! What Peets calls the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252' name='page_252'></a>252</span> +'concussion' breaks windows in the Wells-Fargo +office, an' shakes up the Red Light to +that extent it brings down Monte's picture an' +busts it to forty flinders on the bottles.</p> +<p>"'Which for a moment,' says Black Jack, +commentin' on the gen'ral mess it makes, 'I +thinks it's one of Colonel Sterett's <i>Coyote</i> editorials +on the licker question.'</p> +<p>"That powder blow-up marks the onforchoonate +last of Mike. Since he never does show +up no more, an' a Mexican tendin' goats in +the vicin'ty informs us he sees him pinnin' a +target on the r'ar elevation of the powder +house jest prior to the explosion, it's the common +feelin' that the blow-up's caused by one +of Mike's bullets, an' that Mike an' the powder +reepos'tory takes flight simooltaneous. +Only, as already set fo'th, Peets claims that +Mike knows what's comin'. Mebby Peets is +right, an' mebby Mike that a-way commits +sooicide. Whichever it is, sooicide or accident, +it's a mighty complete success; for the only +trace we're able to find of either Mike or the +powder house is a most elab'rate hole in the +ground.</p> +<p>"'The same bein', as I holds, a most excellent +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253' name='page_253'></a>253</span> +feachure,' says Boggs, who loathes +foonerals. 'This yere powder house way of +cashin' in meets with my approval. It shore +don't leave no reemains!'"</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_254' name='page_254'></a>254</span> +<a name='X_HOW_TUTT_SHOT_TEXAS_THOMPSON' id='X_HOW_TUTT_SHOT_TEXAS_THOMPSON'></a> +<h2>X</h2> +<h3>HOW TUTT SHOT TEXAS THOMPSON</h3> +</div> +<p>"Which they starts the yarn in Red Dog +that the shootin' that time between Tutt an' +Texas is born of sectional feelin', an' because +Texas is a southern gent, while Tutt comes +from the No'th. Sech explainations is absurd––as +Doc Peets well says. Also, I'm yere to +go one word further an' state that, while it's +like them Red Dogs, idle an' mendacious as +they freequent be, to go fosterin' sech fictions, +thar ain't a syllable of trooth tharin from soda +to hock. The flareup has its start in them two +children, Annalinda Thompson an' little Enright +Peets, an' what sentiments of rivalry +nacherally seizes on Tutt an' Texas as parent +an' uncle reespective."</p> +<p>"Still there must have been some degree of +sectional feeling among you," I said, more by +way of stirring my old cattleman up than any +nobler purpose; "coming some of you from the +South, and others from the North, it would +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_255' name='page_255'></a>255</span> +have been strange indeed had it been otherwise."</p> +<p>"Which it's shore strange, then. Them +Wolfville pards of mine is one an' all United +States men. They ain't Southern men, nor +No'thern men, nor Eastern men, nor even +Western men. Likewise, the improodent sport +who'd go trackin' 'round, ondertaikin' to designate +'em as sech, would get toomultuous action, +plenty soon and plenty of it.</p> +<p>"Why, take Texas himse'f: Thar's a fly-by-night +party pesterin' 'round camp for a +space, who lets on he's from the same neck of +woods as Texas. This yere annoyin' fraud is +a heap proud of it, too, an' makes a speshulty +of bein' caught a lot in Texas' company. He +figgers it gives him a standin'.</p> +<p>"One mornin', when only a few of us is pervadin' +'round, he plants himse'f plumb comfortable +an' important in a Red Light cha'r, +an' followin' the 'nitial drink for the day goes +to talkin' with Texas.</p> +<p>"As he sets thar, all fav'rable an' free, thar +comes trackin' in a aged Eastern gent, who's +been negotiatin' with Armstrong about business +concernin' the Noo York store. The aged +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_256' name='page_256'></a>256</span> +Eastern shorthorn goes rockin' up to the +counter, an' p'litely lets on to Black Jack that +he'll licker. As he does so this yere firegilt +party who boasts he's of the same range an' +breed as Texas speaks up, sharp an' coarse, +like the bark of a dog:</p> +<p>"'Yere, you! I wants a word or two with +you-all!'</p> +<p>"With that for a start he onfurls what he +preetends is his grievances, the same bein' because +of somethin' the aged Eastern sport does +or don't do comin' over on Monte's stage––which +they're fellow passengers that time, it +seems––an' next he cuts loose, an' goes to +vitooperatin' an' reecrim'natin', an' pilin' insult +on epithet, that a-way, to beat four of a +kind. Which he certainly does give that aged +Eastern person a layin' out! Shore; he's jest +showin' off at that, an' tryin' to impress +Texas.</p> +<p>"At the beginnin' the aged Eastern gent +stands like he's dazed, onable to collect himse'f. +However, he gets his mental feet onder +him, an' allowin' he won't stay none to listen +to sech tirades, tucks away his nosepaint an' +pulls out.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_257' name='page_257'></a>257</span></div> +<p>"After he's gone the vitooperative party +wheels so's to face Texas, an' says––mighty +pleasant an' agree'ble, like the object of the +meetin's been most happ'ly accomplished:</p> +<p>"'Thar, that shows you.'</p> +<p>"'Whatever does it show?' Texas asks, +some grim.</p> +<p>"'Which it shows the difference between a +No'thern gent an' a Southern gent. To be +shore, that old cimmaron ain't half my size an' +is twict my age, but all the same, Texas, if +he's from the South, you bet, like you an' me, +he'd tore into me, win or lose, if he'd got +killed!'</p> +<p>"'You think so?' says Texas, his eyes becomin' +as hard an' glitterin' as a snake's. +'Now let me tell you something, my lionhearted +friend. Thar's brave men South, an' +brave men No'th. Also, thar's quitters; quitters +at both ends of that No'thern-Southern +trail who'll go into the water like a mink. Accordin' +to my experiences, an' I've been dallyin' +with hoomanity in the herd for quite some +time, thar's nothin' in that geographical bluff +of yours at all. Moreover, I reckons that before +I'm through, seein' now you've got me +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_258' name='page_258'></a>258</span> +goin', I'll prove it. For a starter, then, +takin' your say-so for it, you're a Southern +man?'</p> +<p>"'Which that's shore c'rrect,' the other responds, +but feeble; 'you an' me, as I says former, +is both Southern men.'</p> +<p>"'<i>Bueno!</i> Now as calk'lated to demonstrate +how plumb onfounded is them theeries of +yours'––yere Texas gets up, an' kicks his cha'r +back so he's got room––'I has pleasure in informin' +you that you're a onmitigated hoss-thief;––an' +you don't dare stand up. Yes, sir; +you're onfit to drink with a nigger or eat with +a dog;––an' you'll set thar an' take it.'</p> +<p>"Which that aboosive party, pale as paper, +certainly does 'set thar an' take it' preecisely +as Texas prophecies; an' after glowerin' at +him, red-eyed an' f'rocious for a moment, +Texas sticks his paws in his jeans, an' sa'nters +off.</p> +<p>"It's jest as well. Why, if that humbug so +much as curls a lip or crooks a finger, after +Texas takes to enunciatin' them prop'sitions +in philosophy, Texas'd have tacked him to the +table with his bowie an' left him kickin', same +as them goggled-eyed professors who calls +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_259' name='page_259'></a>259</span> +themselves nacheralists does some buzzin' fly +with a pin.</p> +<p>"'Which, if thar's anything,' Texas explains +to Enright, 'that makes me tired partic'lar, it's +them cracks about No'th an' South. If I was +range boss for these yere United States I'd +shore have them deescriptives legislated into +a cap'tal offence.'</p> +<p>"'Sech observations as that narrow tarrapin +onbosoms,' comments Enright, 'only goes to +show how shallow he is. Comin' down to the +turn, even that old Eastern shorthorn's walkin' +away from him don't necessar'ly mean a +lack of sand. Folks does a heap of runnin' in +this vale of tears, but upon various an' varyin' +argyooments. A gent runs from a polecat, an' +he runs from a b'ar; but the reason ain't the +same.'</p> +<p>"Thar's no sectionalisms in Tutt's differences +with Texas, none whatever. Also, while +it finds, as I holds, its roots in Annalinda an' +little Enright Peets, it don't arise from nothin' +which them babies does to one another. Two +pups in the same basket, two birds on the same +bough, couldn't have got along more harmon'ous. +The moment Nell brings little Enright +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_260' name='page_260'></a>260</span> +Peets over to see Annalinda them children +falls together like a shock of oats, an' at +what times they're onhobbled of fam'ly reestrictions +an' footloose so to do, you'd see 'em +playin' 'round from sun-up till dark, same as +a pa'r of angels.</p> +<p>"Troo, Annalinda does domineer over little +Enright Peets, an' makes him fetch an' carry +an' wait on her; an' thar's times, too, when +she shore beats him up with a stick or quirt +some lib'ral. But what else would you expect? +I even encounters little Enright Peets, down +on all-fours, an' Annalinda ridin' him like he's +a hoss. Likewise, she's kickin' his ribs a heap, +to make him go faster. But that's nothin'; +them two babies is only playin'.</p> +<p>"Not that I'm none so shore it ain't this +yere last identical spectacle which gives Nell +the notion of them two children marryin' at +some footure day. That, however, is merest +surmise, an' in a manner onimportant. What +I'd like to get proned into you-all is that +Texas an' Tutt lockin' horns like they does has +its single cause in them latent jealousies an' +struggles for social preecedence, which is +bound to occur between a only father an' a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_261' name='page_261'></a>261</span> +only uncle wharever found. Which the single +safegyard lies in sech a multitoode of fathers +an' uncles as renders 'em common. To possess +but one of each makes 'em puffed up an' +pride-blown, an' engenders a mootual uppishness +which before all is over is shore to man'fest +itse'f in war.</p> +<p>"Thar's one boast we-all is able to make, +however. That clash between Tutt an' Texas +is the only shore-enough trouble which ever +breaks out among the boys. You onderstands, +of course, that when I says 'boys' that a-way, +I alloodes to Enright an' Peets an' them others +who constitootes Wolfville's social an' commercial +backbone. Thar's other embroglios +more or less smoky an' permiscus, which gets +pulled off one way an' another, but they ain't +held to apply to us of rights. For sech alien +hookups, so to speak, we reefooses all reespons'bility. +Which we regyards them escapades +as fortooitous, an' declines 'em utter. Tutt's +goin' against Texas is the only war-jig we +feels to be reely Wolfville's."</p> +<p>"You forget," I said teasingly, "the shooting +between Boggs and Tutt, as incident to the +Washerwoman's War."</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_262' name='page_262'></a>262</span></div> +<p>"Which, that?" There was impatience +tinged with acrimony in the tones. "That's +nothin' more'n gallantry. It's what's to be +looked for whar thar's ladies about, an' is doo +to a over-effervescence of sperit, common to +the younger males of our species when made +gala an' giddy by the alloorin' flutter of a petticoat. +Boggs an' Tutt don't honestly mean +them bullets none. Also, if you-all is goin' to +keep on with your imbecile interruptions, I'll +quit."</p> +<p>Abject apologies on my part, supported by +equally abject promises of reform.</p> +<p>The old gentleman, thus mollified, resumed:</p> +<p>"Goin' back to this yere Tutt-Texas collision, +thar's no denyin', an' be fa'r about it, +but what Tutt has grounds. For goin' on five +years he's been looked up to as the only father +in camp, an' for Texas to appear at what you-all +might call the 'leventh hour an' go crowdin' +disdainfully into the picture on nothin' more'n +bein' a uncle, is preepost'rous. To prance +'round on sech a meager showin', puttin' on +the dog he does, an' all in a somber, overbearin' +way like he's packin' the world on his +shoulders an' we-all's got to be a heap careful +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_263' name='page_263'></a>263</span> +not to do nothin' to him to make him drop it, +is inexcoosable to the verge of outrage. No +rel'tive in the third or fo'th degree is jestified +to assoome sech sooperiorities; an' Enright tells +Texas so after Peets digs the lead out of the +thick of his laig.</p> +<p>"Which we gets orig'nal notice about Annalinda, +when a passel of us, as is our custom +followin' first drink time in the evenin', drifts +into the post office. Some gets letters, some +don't; an' Texas, who, as a roole, don't have no +voloominous correspondence, is sayin' that he +has the same feelin' about letters he has about +trant'lers, as bein' a heap more likely to sting +you than anything else, when the postmaster +shoves him out one.</p> +<p>"It's from Laredo, an' when Texas gets a +glimpse at the mark on it he lets it fall onopened +to the floor.</p> +<p>"'It's my former wife!' he says, with a shudder. +'Yere she is, startin' in to get the upper +hand of me ag'in.'</p> +<p>"'Nonsense!' says Peets, pickin' up the letter, +'it's from some lawyers. Can't you see +their names yere up in the corner?'</p> +<p>"'That don't mean nothin',' Texas +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_264' name='page_264'></a>264</span> +whispers––he's shore a heap shook; 'it'd be about her +speed, as she goes plottin' afresh to ondermine +me in my present peace, to rope up a law-wolf +to show her how.'</p> +<p>"Bein' urged by Peets, an' the balance of us +asshorin' him we'll stand pat in his destinies +come what may an' defend him to the bitter +finish, Texas manages to open the envelope. +As he stands thar readin' the scare in his face +begins to fade in favor of a look of gloom.</p> +<p>"'Gents,' he says, at last, 'it's my brother +Ed. He's cashed in.' We expresses the reg'lation +reegrets, an' Texas continyoos: 'Ed +leaves me his baby girl, Annalinda––she's my +niece.' After a pause he adds: 'This yere +shore requires consideration.'</p> +<p>"'These law sharps,' explains Texas, when +we're organized all sociable in the Red Light, +an' Black Jack's come through on right an' +reg'lar lines, 'allows it's Ed's dyin' reequest +that I take an' ride paternal herd on this infant +child.'</p> +<p>"'But how about its mother?' urges Enright.</p> +<p>"'Which it ain't got none. Its mother dies +two years ago. Now Ed's packed in, that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_265' name='page_265'></a>265</span> +baby's been whipsawed; it's a full-fledged orphan, +goin' an' comin'.'</p> +<p>"'Ain't thar no rel'tives on the mother's +side?' asks Nell, from over back of Cherokee's +lay out.</p> +<p>"'Meanest folks, Nellie,' says Texas, 'bar +none, between the Colorado an' the Mississippi. +You see they're kin to my Laredo wife, +me an' Ed both marryin' into the same tribe. +Which it shows the Thompson intell'gence. +Thar ain't a Thompson yet who don't need a +guardeen constant.'</p> +<p>"After no end of discussion that a-way it's +onderstood to be the gen'ral notion that Texas +ought to bring Ed's orphan baby to Wolfville.</p> +<p>"'But s'ppose,' says Texas, 'that in spite of +Ed wantin' me to cast my protectin' pinions +over this yere infant, its mother's outfit, thinkin' +mebby to shake me down for some <i>dinero</i>, +objects?'</p> +<p>"'In which case,' says Boggs, who's plumb +interested, 'you sends for me, Texas, an' we +mavericks it. You ain't goin' to let no sech +callous an' onfeelin' gang as your wife's folks +go 'round dictatin' about Ed's Annalinda child, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_266' name='page_266'></a>266</span> +be you, an' givin' you a stand-off? Which +you're only tryin' to execoote Ed's dying behests.'</p> +<p>"It's settled final that Texas, ag'inst whatever +opp'sition, has got to bring on Annalinda +to us. That disposed of, it next comes nacherally +up as a question how, when we gets Annalinda +safe to Wolfville, she's goin' to be took +care of.</p> +<p>"'Which the O. K. Restauraw won't do,' +Texas says, lookin' anxious out of the tail of +his eye at Enright an' Peets. 'Mind, I ain't +hintin' nothin' ag'inst Missis Rucker, who +hasn't got her Southwest equal at flapjacks, +but I submits that for a plastic child that +a-way, at a time when it receives impressions +easy, to daily witness the way she maltreats +Rucker, is to go givin' that infant wrong idees +of what's coming to husbands as a whole. I'm +a hard man, gents; but I don't aim to bring up +this yere Annalinda baby so that one day she's +encouraged to go handin' out the racket to +some onforchoonate sport, which my Laredo +wife hands me.'</p> +<p>"'Thar's reasons other than Missis Rucker,' +Enright is quick to observe, 'why the O. K. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_267' name='page_267'></a>267</span> +House ain't the fittest place for infancy, an' +any discussion of our esteemable hostess in +them marital attitoodes of hers is sooperfluous. +S'ppose we lets it go, without elab'ration, that +the O. K. House, from nursery standp'ints, +won't do.'</p> +<p>"Cherokee thinks that mighty likely a good +way'd be to have Annalinda live with Tutt an' +Tucson Jennie.</p> +<p>"Peets shakes his sagacious head.</p> +<p>"'Dave'll onderstand my p'sition to be +purely scientific,' he says, glancin' across at +Tutt, 'when I states that sech a move'd be a +error. Tucson Jennie, as wife an' mother, is +as fine as silk. But she's also a female woman, +an' owns a papoose of her own. Thar's inborn +reasons why woman, as sech, while sympathetic +an' gen'rally speakin' plumb lovely, is oncapable +onder certain circumstances of a squar' +deal. In this yere business of babies, for example, +thar's existed throughout the ages a +onbridgable gulf in her eyes between her offspring +an' other folks' offspring; an' while disclaiming +all disloyalty to Tucson Jennie, I'm +obleeged to say that as between Annalinda an' +little Enright Peets, she wouldn't be cap'ble +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_268' name='page_268'></a>268</span> +of a even break. Do I overstate the trooth, +Dave?'</p> +<p>"'None whatever,' Tutt returns. 'What +you discovers scientific, Doc, I learns more +painfully as husband an' father. I fully agrees +that when it comes to other folks' children no +female mother can hold the onbiased scales.'</p> +<p>"'Thar's French an' his wife?' chirps Nell, +her elbow on the lay-out, an' her little round +chin in her fist; 'thar's the Frenches, over to +the corrals? French an' Benson Annie ain't +got no children, an' they'd be pleased to death +at havin' Annalinda.'</p> +<p>"'But be they competent?' asks Texas, over +whom a feelin' of se'f-importance is already beginnin' +to creep like ivy on a wall. 'I don't +want to be considered a carper, but as I sees +it I'd be doin' less'n my dooty as a uncle if I +fails to ask, Be them Frenches competent?'</p> +<p>"'You'll have to rope up a nurse some'ers, +anyhow, Texas,' Boggs puts in. 'Thar's dozens +of them good-nachered fat young senoritas +among the Mexicans who'll do. The nurse +would know her business, even if the Frenches +don't.'</p> +<p>"'Two nurses,' declar's Tutt. 'Bein' a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_269' name='page_269'></a>269</span> +father, I savvys the nurse game from start to +finish. You'll need two; one to hold it, an' +one to fetch it things.'</p> +<p>"'But about them Frenches?' inquires Jack +Moore. 'Ain't we goin' a little fast? Mebby +they themselves has objections.'</p> +<p>"'Which they'd look mighty well,' observes +Cherokee, riflin' the deck an' snappin' it into +the box plenty vicious, 'to go 'round objectin' +after Nellie yere's done put 'em in nom'nation +for this trust.'</p> +<p>"'Not that they'd reeject it haughty,' explains +Moore; 'but, as Texas himse'f says, +who's to know, they bein' mighty modest people, +that they'll regyard themselves as comp'tent? +The Frenches ain't had no practice, an' +thar's nothin' easier than a misdeal about a +youngone. Thar's a brainless mother saws +her baby off on me over in Prescott one day, +while she goes cavortin' into a store to buy a +frock, an' you-all can go put a bet on it I'm +raisin' the he'pless long yell inside of the first +minute. This takin' charge of babies ain't no +sech pushover as it looks. It's certainly no +work for amatoors.'</p> +<p>"'Thar's nothin' in them doubts, Jack,' +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_270' name='page_270'></a>270</span> +Boggs chips in confidently. 'Even if them +Frenches ain't had no practice, an' the nurses +should fall down, thar's dozens of us who'll be +ever at the elbow of that household; an' if in +their ignorance they takes to bunglin' the play +we'll be down on 'em in the cockin' of a winchester +to give 'em the proper steer.'</p> +<p>"'I reckon, Nellie,' says Texas, lookin' wistful +across at Nell, 'that if some of the boys +yere'll stand your watch as lookout, you'd +put in a day layin' in a outfit of duds? You +could be doin' it, you know, while I'm down in +Laredo, treating with them hostiles for possession.'</p> +<p>"'Shore,' an' Nellie smiles at the prospect. +'Which I'll jest go stampedin' over to Tucson +for 'em, too. How old is Annalinda?'</p> +<p>"Texas gives Annalinda's age as three.</p> +<p>"'She'll be four next fall,' says he; 'I remembers +Ed writes me she's born durin' the +beef round-up.'</p> +<p>"'In that case,' comments Enright, 'she +ought to stand about eight hands high. In +clawin' together said raiment, Nellie, that'll +give you some impression of size.'</p> +<p>"'An', Nellie,' continyoos Texas, 'my idee +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_271' name='page_271'></a>271</span> +is you'll want to change in say a thousand dollars?'</p> +<p>"'Why, Texas, you talk like you're locoed. +One hundred'll win out all the clothes she could +sp'ile, w'ar or t'ar to pieces in a year.'</p> +<p>"'Shore,' coincides Tutt; 'take little Enright +Peets. One hundred <i>pesos</i> leaves him lookin' +like a circus.'</p> +<p>"'But Annalinda,' objects Texas doubtfully, +'is a She. It costs more for girls. That +Laredo wife of mine'd blow in the price of +sixty head of cattle, an' then allow she ain't +half dressed.'</p> +<p>"'One hundred'll turn the trick,' Nell insists.</p> +<p>"All that night we sets up discussin' an' considerin'. +The more we talks the better we likes +that Annalinda idee.</p> +<p>"At sun-up, b'arin' the best wishes of all, +Texas cinches a hull into his quickest pony, an' +hits the trail for Tucson to take the railroad +kyars for Laredo.</p> +<p>"'Which, onless they gives me more of a +battle than I anticipates,' he remarks, as he +pushes his feet into the stirrup, 'I'll be back +by ten days.'</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_272' name='page_272'></a>272</span></div> +<p>"'An', Texas,' says Boggs, detainin' him by +the bridle rein, 'you-all beat it into that baby +that I'm her Uncle Dan. It'll give you something +to do comin' back.'</p> +<p>"'Which, jedgin' from what I goes through +that day in Prescott,' remarks Moore, mighty +cynical, 'Texas'll have plenty to do.'</p> +<p>"Texas don't meet up with no partic'lar +Laredo opposition, them relatives appearin' +almost eager to give him Annalinda. One of +'em even goes the insultin' len'th of offerin' to +split the expense, but withdraws his bluff when +Texas threatens to brain him with a six-shooter.</p> +<p>"Boggs, hearin' of this Laredo willin'ness, +can't onderstand it no how.</p> +<p>"'It's too many for me,' he says. 'If it's +me, now, I'd have clung to that blessed baby +till the cows come home. They must shore be +deeficient in taste, them Laredo yahoos!'</p> +<p>"As exhibitin' how soon bein' moved into +cel'bration as a uncle begins to tell on Texas +he ups an' in the fullness of his vanity deecides, +even before he arrives at Laredo, ag'inst +the scheme which the camp's half laid out +about the Frenches an' Annalinda, an' arranges +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_273' name='page_273'></a>273</span> +to have a 'doby of his own. It's a blow +to the Frenches, too, for since we notifies 'em, +they has set their hearts on the racket.</p> +<p>"But Texas is immov'ble.</p> +<p>"'Ed's dyin',' says he, 'an' namin' me to be +reespons'ble for Annalinda, creates a sityooation +best met by me havin' a wickeyup of my +own. I'm sorry to disapp'int, but after matoore +reeflection, that a-way, I've conclooded +to play a lone hand.'</p> +<p>"While he's away Texas goes projectin' +'round an' cuts out a couple of old black +mammies from a day nursery over in Dallas, +an' brings 'em along. They an' Annalinda +rides over from Tucson in the stage; but, bein' +more familiar with the saddle, an' because he's +better able tharfrom to soopervise an' go dictatin' +terms to Monte, he himse'f comes on his +pony.</p> +<p>"'An', gents,' whines Monte, as, throwin' +down the reins, he heads for the Red Light +bar, 'between us he ain't the same Texas. That +Annalinda child has shore changed him turrible. +All the way from Tucson, when he ain't +crowdin' up to the wheel to give orders to +them Senegambians about how to hold or +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_274' name='page_274'></a>274</span> +when to feed her, he's menacin' at me. That's +why I'm three hours late. At rough places it +looks like thar ain't no name mean enough for +him to call me; an' once, when the front wheel +jolts into a chuckhole an' Annalinda sets up a +squall, he pulls a gun an' threatens in the most +frenzied way to shoot me up. "You be more +careful," he roars, "or I'll blow you plumb off +your perch! Childhood, that a-way, is a fragile +flower; an' if you figgers I'll set yere an', in +the tender instance of my own pers'nal niece, +see some booze-besotted drunkard break that +flower short off at the stalk, I'll fool you up +a whole lot." An' do you-all know,' Monte +concloodes, almost with a sob, 'he never does +let down the hammer of his .45 ag'in for most +a mile.'</p> +<p>"Annalinda is plumb pretty. The whole +camp goes her way like a landslide. Tucson +Jennie approves of her––with reeservations, +of course, in favor of little Enright Peets; +Missis Rucker finds time to snatch a few moments, +between feedin' us an' bossin' Rucker, +to go see her every day; while, as for Nell, +she's in an' out of Texas' 'doby mornin', noon +an' night to sech extents that half the time +Cherokee ain't got no lookout, an' when he +has it's Boggs.</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_10' id='linki_10'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-281.jpg' alt='' title='' width='386' height='605' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +<span style='font-size:smaller'>"HIM AN' ANNALINDA SHORE DO CONSTITOOTE A PICTURE. 'THAR'S A PA'R TO DRAW TO,' SAYS NELL TO TEXAS, HER EYES LIKE BROWN DIAMONDS." <i>p.</i> 281.</span><br /> +</p> +</div> +<p>"Nell brings over little Enright Peets, an' +thar's no backin' away from it him an' Annalinda +shore do constitoote a picture.</p> +<p>"'Thar's a pa'r to draw to!' says Nell to +Texas, her eyes like diamonds.</p> +<p>"Bein' romantic, like all girls, an' full of +fancies that a-way, Nell indulges in playful +specyoolations about Annalinda an' little Enright +Peets gettin' married later on. Not that +she intends anything, although Texas takes it +plenty serious, which shows how his egotism is +already workin' overtime.</p> +<p>"When Monte puts up them groans about +how Texas is changed, we-all lays it to +the complainin' habit which, on account of +whiskey mebby, has got to be second nacher +with him. He's always kickin' about something; +an' so, nacherally, when he onbosoms +himse'f of that howl about Texas, we don't pay +no speshul heed. It ain't three days, however, +before it begins to break on us that for +once Monte's right. Texas has certainly +changed. Thar's a sooperior manner, what +you'd call a loftiness, about him, which is hard +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_275' name='page_275'></a>275</span> +to onderstand an' harder to put up with. It +gets to be his habit constant to reemark in a +wearied way, as he slops out his drinks, that +we-all'll have to excoose him talkin' to us +much, because he's got cares on his mind, besides +bein' played out on account of settin' up +all night with Annalinda.</p> +<p>"'Which she's sheddin' her milk teeth,' he'd +say, 'an' it makes her petyoolant.'</p> +<p>"After which he'd turn away in dignified +tol'ration, same as if we're too low an' dull to +a'preeciate what he has to b'ar.</p> +<p>"Or, ag'in––an' always before the draw––he'd +throw down his hand in a poker game, an' +scramble to his feet, sayin':</p> +<p>"'Heavens! I forgets about that Annalinda +child!'</p> +<p>"An' with that he'd go skallyhootin' off into +space, leavin' us planted thar with a misdeal +on our hands, an' each one of us holdin' mebby +better than aces-up, an' feelin' shore we could +have filled. It's nothin' less'n awful the way +he acts; an' that we lets him get away with it +exhibits them sentiments of Christian charity +which permeates our breasts.</p> +<p>"Thar's the way, too, he goes hectorin' at +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_276' name='page_276'></a>276</span> +Boggs! Two occasions in partic'lar I reecalls; +an' it's only Boggs' forbearance that hostil'ties +don't ensoo. One time when Annalinda's +out for a walk with her two old black mammies +Boggs crosses up with the outfit an' kisses +Annalinda. Wharupon Texas yells out from +across the street, like he's been bit by a rattlesnake:</p> +<p>"'Don't do that, Dan! You'll mebby +give her something. In Mother Shrewsbury's +"What Ails Babies and Why" it's +laid down emphatic that you mustn't kiss +'em.'</p> +<p>"'But you kisses her,' retorts Boggs.</p> +<p>"'Me? But I'm her uncle. Besides, I only +kisses her hands. Which I'll permit you-all to +kiss her hands, Dan, if that'll do you. Only +don't you go to overplay it none. Don't forget +that hands is the limit, an' it's thar whar +you gets off.'</p> +<p>"'Which I ain't none shore,' says Boggs, +who's some hurt, as he's talkin' the thing over +with Enright an' Cherokee in the Red Light––'which +I ain't none shore but Texas is right; +only he oughtn't to throw out them rooles of +health of his so plumb offensive. You'd have +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_277' name='page_277'></a>277</span> +reckoned from the row he makes I'm eatin' +Annalinda.'</p> +<p>"Another time Boggs gives Annalinda his +six-shooter to play with, she havin' deemanded +it with screams. Texas comes steamin' up.</p> +<p>"'Dan,' he cries, grabbin' the weepon from +Annalinda, 'sometimes I asks myse'f in all ser'ousness +be you got common sense! Is this +yere a snare you're settin' for this innocent +child? Do you-all want her to blow her head +plumb off?'</p> +<p>"'But, Texas,' Boggs expostyoolates, 'thar +ain't a chance. How's she goin' to cock that +gun, an' the mainspring fifteen pounds resistance?'</p> +<p>"'But she might drop it.'</p> +<p>"'Which, if she does, it can't go off none; +I sets the hammer between two shells on purpose.'</p> +<p>"'Whoever's bringin' up this yere baby, you +or me?' Texas deemands, as he tosses Boggs +his gun. 'Please don't pass her no more artillery. +If it's got to whar her existence is goin' +to be a failure onless she's foolin' with a gun, I +as her uncle preefers to furnish said hardware +myse'f.'</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_278' name='page_278'></a>278</span></div> +<p>"Shore, Boggs stands it, it's so evident +Texas is onhinged.</p> +<p>"'An' if you look at it straight it ain't no +wonder, neither,' says Boggs, who's mighty +forgivin' that a-way. 'It's apples to ashes if +you was to suddenly up an' enrich any of +us with a niece like Annalinda, we-all in +goin' crazy over her 'd give Texas kyards an' +spades.'</p> +<p>"Texas, who's always readin' medicine +books, likes to go bulgin' 'round eloocidatin' +about measles an' scarlet fever an' whoopin' +cough, an' what other maladies is allers layin' +in wait to bushwhack infancy. At sech moments +he's plenty speecious an' foxy, so's to +trap us into deebates with him. Mebby it'll +be about the mumps, an' what's to be done; an' +then, after he gets us goin', he'll r'ar back the +actchooal image of insult an' floor us with +'Mother Shrewsbury.' It ain't no overstatin' +a sityooation to say he pursoos these yere tactics +ontil he's the admitted pest of the camp, +an' thar ain't one of us but would sooner see a +passel of Apaches comin' than him. He can't +confab two minutes about Annalinda but he +grows so insultin' you simply has to hold onto +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_279' name='page_279'></a>279</span> +your manhood by the scruff of the neck not +to go for him.</p> +<p>"Even Enright ain't exempt. It comes out +casyooally one evenin', as Texas goes layin' +down the law about how he's r'arin' Annalinda, +that Enright's mother was wont to sooth an' +engage his infantile hours with a sugar-rag an' +a string of spools. Which you should have +shore seen Texas look at him! Not with reespect, +mind you; not like he's heard anything +worth while or interestin'. But like he's sayin' +to himse'f, 'An' you sets thar offerin' yourse'f +as a argyooment in favor of sugar-rags an' +strings of spools! On the back of sech a warnin' +you don't figger none I'll go givin' sugar-rags +an' strings of spools to Annalinda, do +you?' While he's thinkin' this he grins that +patronizin' it'd set your teeth on edge.</p> +<p>"Texas in a simple sperit of vain-glory'd +take advantage of Tutt bein' a father that +a-way to back him into a corner; an' then, +ignorin' the rest of us as belongin' to the barb'rous +herd, he'd insist on discussin' skunk oil +as a remedy for croup. An' the worst of it is +he finally has Tutt, who's bad enough before, +gyratin' 'round, his addled nose to the sky in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_280' name='page_280'></a>280</span> +redoubled scorn of childless men. From the +two sociablest sports in camp it gets so that +the uncle in one an' father in the other so far +supplants an' shoves aside the mere man in +'em that Job himse'f would have had to make +a new record for meekness an' long sufferin' to +get along with 'em. Which we-all suffers +from both to that extent that when they does +start to bombardin' each other the eepisode in +some of its angles appeals to us as a welcome +relief.</p> +<p>"Even Peets goes after Texas. It don't do +no good. He's become that opinionated he +ain't got no more reespect for Peets than for +Monte. Texas mentions that Annalinda's got +a ache some'ers, an' asks Peets what's his idee.</p> +<p>"'Thar's nothin' onder the firmament, +Texas, the matter with that baby,' says Peets, +'but you. Which if you'd ever got to him as a +yearlin' you'd a-killed Hercules himse'f! Quit +yore fussin', an' give Annalinda a chance. +Take a lesson from the cub coyote. Roll +Annalinda out in the sand, an' let her scuffle. +That's the way to bring a youngone up.'</p> +<p>"'Mother Shrewsbury don't agree with +you,' says Texas. 'Also, thar's nothin' in them +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_281' name='page_281'></a>281</span> +cub coyote claims of yours for r'arin' children.'</p> +<p>"'Mother Shrewsbury,' retorts Peets, 'is +nothin' but a patent med'cine outfit, which +feeds an' fattens on sech boneheads as you.'</p> +<p>"'Excoose me, but scattered throughout +that invalyooable work is the endorsements of +doctors of divinity.'</p> +<p>"'Shore! Half the time a gold brick comes +to you wrapped in a tract. All the same, +Texas, the way you're carryin' on about Annalinda +is fast bringin' your sanity into doubt.'</p> +<p>"Texas snorts his scorn at this, an' goes back +to 'Mother Shrewsbury.'</p> +<p>"As I've already s'ggested, however, thar's +a bitter drop in Texas' cup, an' Tutt's the +drop. As a ondeniable father, Tutt can put it +all over Texas or any other mere uncle whenever +he feels like it, an' deep down in his heart +Texas knows it. He struggles to hide the feelin', +but any one can tell that the very sight of +Tutt is wormwood to him.</p> +<p>"Likewise, Tutt fully ree'lizes his sooperiority, +an' in no wise conceals the same. It +comes as easy to Tutt as suckin' aiggs, he havin' +had plenty of practice. Ever since little +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_282' name='page_282'></a>282</span> +Enright Peets is born Tutt has conducted himse'f +in a downhill manner towards all of us, +an' been allowed to do so; as why not? This +manner has become so much a part of Tutt +that even after Texas inherits Annalinda an' +sets up house for himse'f, while it makes the +rest of us look up to him some, it don't he'p +him none with Tutt. Tutt's too thoroughly +aware of the difference between bein' a father +an' bein' a uncle. Likewise, he lets Texas see +it at every twist in the trail.</p> +<p>"That time Nell takes to pa'rin' off +little Enright Peets an' Annalinda, an' in a +sperit of lightness speaks of how mebby some +day they'll wed, she springs the notion on +Texas, as stated, an' asks him what he thinks. +Texas, who always has to have time to make up +his mind about anything with Annalinda in it, +is onable to say, first dash out of the box, +whether he feels tickled or sore. He grows +plenty solemn, as I mentions, grunts mighty +elevated an' austere, an' mumbles about some +things bein' a long shot an' a limb in the way, +an' the wisdom of not crossin' a bridge till you +gets to it.</p> +<p>"Ten minutes later, while he's still got Annalinda +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_283' name='page_283'></a>283</span> +an' little Enright Peets on the skyline +of his regyard, Texas comes upon Tutt, who's +talkin' pol'tics to Armstrong. Armstrong +has tossed off a few weak-minded opinions +about a deefensive an' offensive deal with Russia, +an' Tutt's ag'in it as solid as a sod house.</p> +<p>"'Yes, sir,' Tutt's saying; 'I'm ag'in any +sech low alliance. I'd be ashamed to call myse'f +a white man an' consent to sech open-eyed +disgrace.'</p> +<p>"Texas turns white. It's among his deefects +that he can't escape the feelin' that the whole +world is always thinkin' an' talkin' about whatever +he himse'f is thinkin' an' talkin' about. +Overhearin' what Tutt says, he concloodes that +Tutt's declarin' his sent'ments as to little Enright +Peets marryin' Annalinda, an' is out to +reeject all sech alliances as a disgrace to the +Tutts. An' Texas foomes. To be eat up by +Tutt's sooperior station as a shore father is +bad enough! An' now yere's Tutt, aggravatin' +injury with insult! Which it's too much!</p> +<p>"'Draw your weepon, Dave,' calls out +Texas, bringin' his own gun to the front. +'Your bein' a father don't overawe me none, +you bet! Likewise, if you're a Tutt I'm a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_284' name='page_284'></a>284</span> +Thompson, an' I've stood about all I'm going +to.'</p> +<p>"Tutt, as a old experienced gun-player, sees +at a glance that he ain't got no time to throw +out skirmishers. For reasons onknown, but +s'fficient, thar's Texas manooverin' to plug +him. Wharupon, Tutt takes steps accordin', +an' takes 'em some abrupt. So abrupt, in +trooth, that Texas ain't got through oratin' +before his nigh hind laig has stopped a bullet +midway above the knee. Shore, he gets a shot +at Tutt, but it goes skutterin' along in the +sand a full foot to one side. Thar's only them +two shots, Enright, Armstrong an' Jack +Moore gettin' in between 'em, an' nippin' any +further trouble in the bud.</p> +<p>"It's two hours later, an' Enright has come +'round to beat some sense into Texas.</p> +<p>"'Accordin' to the Doc yere,' says Enright, +as Peets ladles the invalid out a hooker of Old +Jordan, 'that laig'll be so you can ride ag'in +in a month. Pendin' which, while I don't preetend +to savvy what's been goin' on between +you an' Dave, nor what insults has been give +or took, I no less tells you, Texas, that you're +wrong.'</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_285' name='page_285'></a>285</span></div> +<p>"'As how?' growls Texas, gulpin' down the +nosepaint.</p> +<p>"'As to them airs which of late you dons. +You know you can't defend 'em none. Dave's +been the sole onchallenged father in this yere +outfit for crowdin' nigh five years; an' for you +to come swaggerin' up, insistin' that he divide +the pot with you an' you holdin' nothin' higher +than a niece, nacherally exasperates him beyond +endoorance. Which you'd feel the same +yourse'f in Dave's place.'</p> +<p>"'But you don't onderstand, Sam. It's him +connivin' round an' archin' his neck ag'inst +them babies marryin' each other when they're +growed up––it's that which sets my blood to +b'ilin'. Wharever does Dave come in to get +insultin' action at sech a prop'sition? It'll be +a cold day when a Thompson ain't equal to a +Tutt, an' I'll make that good while I can pull +an' p'int a .45.'</p> +<p>"'Which Dave,' interjecks Peets, as he goes +cockin' up Texas' foot on a gooseha'r pillow, +so's the shot laig'll feel it less––'which Dave +thinks right now, an' so informs me personal, +that you-all starts to mussin' with him on account +of pol'tics, an' him havin' been a reepublican +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_286' name='page_286'></a>286</span> +back East. Armstrong b'ars him out, +too.'</p> +<p>"'Pol'tics?' gasps Texas, full of wonder. +'Whatever do I care about pol'tics? I shore +ain't no nigger-lovin' reepublican. At the +same time, I ain't no cheap hoss-thief of a +democrat, neither, even if I does come from +Texas. Why, Doc, takin' jedge an' opposin' +counsel an' the clerk who records the decree, on +down to that ornery auctioneer of a sheriff who +sells up my stock at public vandoo for costs +an' al'mony the time my Laredo wife grabs off +her divorce, every stick-up among 'em's a +democrat. An' while I don't know nothin' +about pol'tics, an' never aims to, you can go +the limit on it I ain't nothin' them bandits be. +Which I'd sooner be a prohibitionist!'</p> +<p>"Enright an' Peets an' Texas keeps on discussin' +ontil the misonderstandin' is laid bar', +an' Texas is quick to admit that he's been +mistook. Tutt, who's willin' an' ready, is +brought in, an' the pa'r reeconciled.</p> +<p>"'An', old man,' says Tutt, usin' both hands +to shake with Texas, 'I'd on the level feel a +heap better if it's me who gets busted in the +laig.'</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_287' name='page_287'></a>287</span></div> +<p>"'Don't mention it, Dave,' returns Texas, +who, now he reelizes what he's done, is deeply +affected. 'I was plumb wrong; I sees it now. +Also, if in the fullness of time Annalinda declar's +in favor of weddin' little Enright Peets, +I yereby binds myse'f to back them nuptials +for a thousand head of steers.'</p> +<p>"'Texas,' an' the water stands in Tutt's +eyes, 'while it's the first I hears of sech a racket, +yere's my hand that I'll go with you, steer for +steer an' hoof for hoof.'</p> +<p>"What Peets calls 'the logic of the sityooation' +p'ints to licker all around; an', as we-all +drinks to the onclouded future of Annalinda +an' little Enright Peets, Texas an' Tutt ag'in +shakes mighty fervent for the second time."</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_288' name='page_288'></a>288</span> +<a name='XI_THE_FUNERAL_OF_OLD_HOLT' id='XI_THE_FUNERAL_OF_OLD_HOLT'></a> +<h2>XI</h2> +<h3>THE FUNERAL OF OLD HOLT</h3> +</div> +<p>"That Turner person! Does he remain in +Wolfville long?" The old cattleman repeated +my question as though feeling for its bearings. +"Well, he don't break no records. Which I +should say now he sojourns with us mebby it's +six months before he ups stakes an' pulls his +freight back East. Oh, no; it ain't that any +gent who's licensed to call himse'f a molder of +public opinion, sech as Enright or Peets, objects +to the Turner person's further presence +none. Speakin' gen'ral, the heft of feelin' is in +his favor. Not but what he has deeficiencies. +It's no easy shot, offhand, to tell you preecisely +whar this Turner person is camped in common +esteem. Perhaps it's enough to say he's one of +them parties who, while they don't excite your +disapproval, is shore to keep you loaded with +regrets.</p> +<p>"Ain't you met up frequent with that form +of horned toad? Thar's nothin' you can lodge +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_289' name='page_289'></a>289</span> +ag'inst 'em, nothin' at which a vig'lance committee +can rope an' fasten; they're honest, well +meanin', even gen'rous; an' yet thar they be, +upholstered by nacher in some occult way with +about the same chance of bein' pop'lar as a wet +dog. Speakin' for myse'f, I feels sorry for +these yere onforchoonate mavericks, condemned +as they be at birth to go pirootin' from +the cradle to the grave, meetin' everywhar +about the same welcome which awaits a polecat +at a picnic.</p> +<p>"Thar's no predom'natin' element of evil in +this Turner person. Which in his case the +trouble swings an' rattles on the way he's built. +His crownin' deefect, mighty likely, is that he's +got one of them sidehill minds, an' what idees +he does evolve can't find no foothold, but is +robbed at the start of everything reesemblin' +perm'nancy. I watches his comin's in an' goin's +out for months on eend, an' I'm yere to +say––at the same time ascribin' to him no ill +intentions––that onder all condition an' on all +o'casions he's as onreli'ble as a woman's watch.</p> +<p>"About that weddin' he goes east to consummate?</p> +<p>"Which it looks like, speakin' mod'rate, he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_290' name='page_290'></a>290</span> +quits winner. He travels back to Sni-a-bar as +tame as tabby cats in persooance with Enright's +commands, an', once thar, old man +Parks an' the rest of 'em whistles him through +the marital chute a heap successful. When he +shows up among us, his blushin' Peggy bride +on his arm, he's wearin' all the brands an' +y'ear marks of a thor'ughly married man; to +sech degrees, indeed, as renders Texas oncomfortable.</p> +<p>"'It recalls,' says Texas, 'them honeymoon +days I passed with my Laredo wife before she +wins out that divorce. It's like a icicle through +my heart to look at him,' he goes on, aloodin' +to the Turner person an' the fatyoous fog of +deelight he's evident in. 'Thar he is, like a +cub b'ar, his troubles all before him, an' not +brains enough onder his skelp-lock to a'preeciate +his awful p'sition.'</p> +<p>"'Why, Texas,' remonstrates Nell as, the +turn comin' trey-nine, she picks a stack of +bloos off the trey an' puts it in the check rack, +'you talks of wedlock as though that sacriment's +a brace. Plenty of folks has beat the +game. Thar's Tutt an' Tucson Jennie.'</p> +<p>"'Them nuptials of Dave's an' Jennie's, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_291' name='page_291'></a>291</span> +Nell,' returns Texas, shakin' his head a heap +gloomy, 'ain't far enough to the r'ar to afford +a preecedent. Wait till Dave wakes up.'</p> +<p>"'Till Dave wakes up?' says Boggs, who's +busy at the lay-out, an' has jest planted a stack +of reds coppered in the big squar'. 'Sech +pess'mism, Texas, is reedic'lous. Bein' married +that a-way, I takes it, is somethin' like +walkin' a tightrope. It reequires care, but it +can be did. To be shore, if anything happens, +you're in for a jo-darter of a jolt. Still, the +resk don't render the feat imposs'ble, an' a +brave man disregyards it.'</p> +<p>"'That's whatever,' comments Nell, as, the +king fallin' to win, she draws down Boggs's +reds.</p> +<p>"Thar's no chill on the reception we confers +on the Turner person an' his Peggy bride. +Monte has orders, in case they're aboard, to +onlimber his shotgun a mile or two outside of +camp, so's we gets notice an' is not caught off +our gyard. For once the old drunkard is faithful +to his trust, an' when we hears him whangin' +away with both bar'ls, we turns out, as they +say in Noo York, <i>en masse</i>. Every gent +empties the six chambers of his gun as the stage +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_292' name='page_292'></a>292</span> +pulls up, an' the Turner person he'ps out his +Peggy bride into the center of a most joyful +foosilade. We couldn't have done more if +she's the Queen of Sheba.</p> +<p>"The Turner person an' his Peggy bride is +in right from the go. Missis Rucker declar's +that the bride's a lady; Nell proclaims her as +'shore corn-fed,' while Tucson Jennie allows +she's a whole lot too good for sech a jack-rabbit +of a husband as she gets.</p> +<p>"Her beauty?</p> +<p>"Which you couldn't say it's calc'lated to +blind.</p> +<p>"For mere loveliness she ain't a marker to +Nell. To be frank, it's somethin' more'n a +simple question that a-way if she splits even +with Tucson Jennie. As for Missis Rucker, +that matron bein' past her yooth ain't properly +speakin' in the runnin', an' to go comparin' +her with girls would be injestice.</p> +<p>"Once landed, an' havin' escaped from that +ovation we prepar's, the Turner person an' his +Peggy bride moves into the wickeyup okyoopied +former by Cash Box Billie an' Missis Bill, +an' opens up their domestic game. Hearin' +nothin' to the contrary, no howls of anguish +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_293' name='page_293'></a>293</span> +from him, no yelps of complaint from her, it's +safe to say that in what joys is supposed to attend +the connoobyal state, they coppers all of +them loogubrious forebodin's of Texas, an' +gets at least as good as a even break.</p> +<p>"Old man Parks back at Sni-a-bar?</p> +<p>"It looks like the Turner person, him bein' +nacherally timid, exaggerates the perils which +lurks in that aged cimmaron. Leastwise, old +Parks don't offer no voylance to him, neither +at the weddin' nor later. Some waifword does +come creepin' along that durin' the cer'mony +two of the guests has to hold old Parks, an' +that he's searched for weepons by the preacher +before ever said divine consents to turn his +game at all. Which I'm free to say, however, +I never lends no creedence to them yarns.</p> +<p>"The Turner person, now he's established +as a married gent an' a cit'zen in full standin', +gives himse'f horn an' hide to business that +a-way. He's as prompt about openin' his coffin +emporium as ever is Black Jack in throwin' +wide the portals of the Red Light. Once thar, +he stays ontil the evenin' lamps is lit, layin' +for a corpse to use his new hearse on.</p> +<p>"Also, the Turner person has hopes: an' +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_294' name='page_294'></a>294</span> +equally also he ain't without foundations +wharon to build. That's an uncle of Armstrong +who has come totterin' into camp, as he +says himse'f, to die. Likewise, it's the onbiased +view of every gent in the outfit that this reelative +of Armstrong possesses reasons. He's a +walkin' wreck. Peets concedes that he's got +every malady ever heard of, besides sev'ral as +to which science is plumb in the dark.</p> +<p>"Nacherally, not alone the Turner person, +but the public at large, figgers that this yere +uncle'll shore furnish employment for the +hearse, an' at no distant day. But it looks like +that onmitigated invalid is out to test our patience. +Mornin' after mornin' he comes scufflin' +into the Red Light on two canes to get his +matootinal nosepaint, an' this he keeps up +ontil it begins to look like malice. Ree'lizin', +too, the pecooliar int'rest we-all is bound to +take in him onder the circumstances, he puts +on airs, an' goes by us when he meets us as +coldly haughty as a paycar by a tramp. Or, +ag'in, he's prone to grin at us plenty peevish +an' malev'lent, an' this he does partic'lar if the +Turner person's hoverin' round.</p> +<p>"'Which I shore deespises to keep you boys +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_295' name='page_295'></a>295</span> +waitin',' he'd say, with a cacklin', aggravatin' +laugh; 'but the way I feels it'd be prematoore +to go greasin' up the hubs of that hearse.'</p> +<p>"Sech taunts he flings forth constant, ontil +he comes mighty near drivin' Boggs frantic.</p> +<p>"'It seems,' says Boggs, 'like simply livin' +ain't good enough for that old hoss thief. To +be wholly happy he's obleeged to make his stay +on earth a source of mis'ry to other folks. +Which he ought to've been in his tomb ten +years ago. Every day he draws his breath is +so much velvet; an', instead of bein' thankful, +all he thinks of is makin' mean reemarks an' +sayin' bitin' things. He'll keep on till some +over-provoked sport bends a six-shooter on his +insultin' head.'</p> +<p>"Weeks of waitin' goes by. Armstrong's +old badger of a uncle hangs on, an' no outside +corpse falls in, Arizona, as you doubtless +savvys, bein' scand'lously healthy that a-way. +So far, too, from any el'g'ble subject arrivin' +in the usual way, the town never experiences +sech a period of rippleless an' onruffled peace. +As showin', too, how far the public is willin' +to go to he'p along the play, I need only mention +that on two o'casions Boggs leaves out his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_296' name='page_296'></a>296</span> +best pony all night, himse'f sprawled in behind +a mesquite bush with his winchester, hopin' +some Mexican'll prove weak enough to want +it. All is in vain, however. Thar we be, +framed up to give a fooneral from which +Cochise County could date time, an' nothin' in +the line of raw mater'al wharwith to pull it off. +Which I never sees the gen'ral feelin' more +exasperated. It's as though in a sperit of sarcasm +our destinies is mockin' us.</p> +<p>"The Turner person, in the face of this yere +disheartenin' idleness, takes refooge in a trottin' +hoss, which form of equine is as strange +to us as camelopards. Shore, we has our runnin' +races, pony ag'inst pony, a quarter of a +mile dash; but that's as far as we goes.</p> +<p>"The Turner person says that for himse'f +he prefers trottin' races, an' after seein' him +ride once I shore quits marvellin' at that pref'rence. +You could no more keep him on a pony +than you could keep him on a red-hot stove. +We ties a roll of blankets across the horn of +the saddle, an' organizes him with buckin' +straps besides, an' in the face of all them safegyards +he rolls off that hoss same as you'd expect +some chambermaid to do.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_297' name='page_297'></a>297</span></div> +<p>"Accordin' to the Turner person, trottin' +races is the sport of kings, an' actin' on this +feelin' he sends back East for a hoss. He +drives it in one evenin' behind the stage, an' +we-all goes over to the corral to size it up. It's +consid'rable of a hoss, too, standin' three hands +higher than the tallest of our ponies. Also, it +has a ewe neck an' lib'ral legs. It's name is +'Henry of Navarre,' but we sees at once that +sech'll never do, an' re-christens him 'Boomerang +Bob.'</p> +<p>"When this hoss arrives Boggs gets excited, +an' him an' the Turner person lays out a track +all around town like a belt. Boggs allows it's +a mile long, or near enough, an' after a passel +of Greasers cl'ars away the cactus an' mesquite +an' Spanish bayonet, the Turner person hooks +up Boomerang to a mountain wagon, an' sends +him 'round an' 'round an' 'round at a pace +that'd make your eyes stick out so far you +could see your sins. Old Boomerang is shore +some eevanescent! When that Turner person +shakes the reins an' yells 'Skoot!' you could +hear him whizz. On sech occasions he's nothin' +short of a four-laigged meteor, an' looks forty +feet long passin' a given p'int.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_298' name='page_298'></a>298</span></div> +<p>"The big drawback is that thar ain't no +quadrooped anywhar about to race Boomerang +ag'inst. Leastwise, we don't hear of none for +goin' on some months, an' when we do it's as +far away as Albuquerque. Some consumptive +tenderfoot, it looks like, has got a trottin' +hoss over some'ers between Albuquerque an' +Socorro, sech at least is the word which comes +to us.</p> +<p>"When this pulmonary sport hears of +Boomerang, which he does by virchoo of the +overblown boastin's of the Turner person, he +announces that his hoss, Toobercloses, can beat +him for money, marbles or chalk. Then comes +a season of bluff an' counter-bluff, the pulmonary +party insistin' that the Turner person +bring Boomerang up to Albuquerque, an' the +Turner person darin' the pulmonary sport to +fetch his 'dog,' as he scornfully terms Toobercloses, +down to Wolfville.</p> +<p>"It's to be said for the Turner person that +he'd have shore took Boomerang, an' gone romancin' +off to Albuquerque, lookin' for that +weak-lunged reprobate an' his hoss, only sent'ment +is plumb ag'inst it. We-all don't propose +to lose the camp the advantages of that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_299' name='page_299'></a>299</span> +contest, an' so to put an eend to discussion, we +urges upon the Turner person that we-all'll +shore kill him if he tries. This yere firmness +gives us the pref'rence over Albuquerque, an' +the pulmonary sport allows final that he'll +come to Wolfville, but don't say when.</p> +<p>"While eevents is thus a-whirl, an' the +camp's all keyed up to concert pitch over the +comin' race between Boomerang an' Toobercloses, +the long-hoped for comes to pass an' the +Turner person, as fooneral director, receives his +'nitial call. Over in Red Dog is a party named +Holt. He ain't standin' none too high, him +havin' married a Mexican woman, an' even +them Red Dogs has the se'f-respect to draw +the social line at Mexicans. One sun-up, however, +she goes trapesin' across the line to visit +her people down near Casa Grande, an' she +never does come back. It looks like she's got +enough of old Holt, which to gents who knows +him don't go trenchin' on the strange.</p> +<p>"The long suit of this yere Mexican wife of +old Holt's is thinkin' she's sick, she holdin' +that she's got as many things the matter with +her as is preyin' on Armstrong's uncle. When +she breaks out of the corral an' goes stampedin' +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_300' name='page_300'></a>300</span> +off to her tribe, she leaves behind mebby +it's a hundred bottles or more of patent med'cine, +rangin' all the way from arnica to ha'r +dye.</p> +<p>"Followin' her flight that a-way old Holt +goes to takin' an account of stock by way of +seein' what she cabbages an' what she leaves, +an' the first flash he blunders upon this yere +bushel or so of drugs. He's too froogal to +throw 'em away, old Holt is, bein' plumb pars'monious +that a-way, an' after revolvin' the +play in his mind for a spell, he ups an' swallows +'em to save 'em.</p> +<p>"No one ever does figger out jest what individyooal +med'cine bumps old Holt off that +time, an' thar's no sayin' whether it's the arnica +or the ha'r dye or some other deecoction, or +simply the whole clan-jamfrey in comb'nation. +Not that any gent goes to reely delvin' for the +trooth, the gen'ral interest pitchin' camp contentedly +on the simple fact that old Holt's been +shore put over the jump. Doc Peets? Old +Holt's packed in before the Doc's half way to +Red Dog. Shore; some of them bottled med'cines +is as ack'rate an' as full of action as a +six-shooter.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_301' name='page_301'></a>301</span></div> +<p>"Of course we-all is pleased to think the +Turner person, as fooneral director, ain't +been born to bloom onseen, but the rift in the +floote is that the corpse belongs to Red Dog. +Old Holt ain't ours none, an' from whatever +angle we looks at it it appears like Wolfville +ain't goin' to get a look in.</p> +<p>"It's at pinches sech as this that Enright +shows his genius for leadership. While all of +us is lookin' bloo, to see how Red Dog beats +us to it for our own hearse, our fertile old war +chief is ribbin' up a game for pop'lar relief.</p> +<p>"The Red Dog del'gation, headed by the +Red Dog chief, comes over to round up the +Turner person an' his hearse to entomb old +Holt. At their showin' up Enright begins to +onkiver his diplomacy.</p> +<p>"'Which we symp'thizes with you-all in your +bereevement, gents,' says he to the Red Dog +bunch, 'but it's ag'inst our rooles for this yere +hearse to go outside of camp.'</p> +<p>"'Ain't you actin' some niggardly about +that hearse?' asks the Red Dog chief coldly.</p> +<p>"'Not niggardly, only proodent. Death +cometh as a thief in the night, speshully in +Arizona, an' we-all'd be a fine band of prairie +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_302' name='page_302'></a>302</span> +dogs to go lendin' our only hearse all over the +territory, an' mebby have it skallyhootin' +'round som'ers up about the Utah line jest +when we needs it at home. However, as refootin' +your onjest charge of bein' niggards, if +you-all Red Dogs wants to bring deceased over +yere, our entire lay-out is at your disposal. Allowin' +you can find your own sky-pilot, we +stands ready to not only let you have our +hearse, but furnish you likewise with moosic +from the Bird Cage Op'ry House, cha'rs from +the dance hall, the Noo York store to hold +serv'ces in, to say nothin' to considerin' you-all +as our guests from soda to hock, with every +Red Light thing said term implies.'</p> +<p>"'Also,' observes Peets, who, from his place +at Enright's elbow, is ridin' circumspect herd +on the play––'also, we presents you-all, without +money an' without price, a sepulcher in +our buryin' ground on Boot Hill.'</p> +<p>"This yere last provokes a storm of protest, +the Red Dog del'gation takin' turns exposchoolatin'. +But Enright an' the Doc stands ca'mly +pat.</p> +<p>"'Which now,' says the Red Dog chief, an' +his tones is bitter––'which now I begins to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_303' name='page_303'></a>303</span> +ketch onto your plot. You savvys as well as +I do that old Holt don't ought to go into your +pile at all. He belongs in our pile––to Red +Dog's pile. An' let me reemind you intriguers +that Red Dog owns its own cem'tery over in +Headboard Hollow, an' ain't askin' graveyard +odds of any outfit west of the Spanish Peaks. +This is a fine idee,' he concloods, turnin' sneerin'ly +to his cohorts; 'not content with tryin' to +grab off these yere obs'quies, they're brazenly +manooverin' to purloin the corpse.'</p> +<p>"At these contoomelius reemarks Boggs, +Tutt, Moore an' Cherokee takes to edgin' to +the fore, but Enright reepresses 'em with a +admon'tory wave of his hand.</p> +<p>"'Gents,' he says, to the Red Dog hold-ups, +'as vis'tors, even though se'f-invited, you're +entitled to courtesy. But thar's a limit goes +with courtesy even, an' you-all mustn't press +it.'</p> +<p>"This last sets the Red Dog outfit back on +its apol'getic ha'nches, an' after a few more +footile but less insultin' bluffs, they retires to +consult. The wind-up is that they yields to +Enright's terms, incloosive of Boot Hill, an' +after libatin' at the Red Light they canters off +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_304' name='page_304'></a>304</span> +to freight over old Holt, so's to be ready to +hold the fooneral next day.</p> +<p>"As I looks back to them prep'rations thar's +no denyin' that as a fooneral director the Turner +person proves himse'f plumb cap'ble of +gettin' thar with the goods. Once he reeceives +the word, everything goes off as measured an' +steady as the breathin' of a sleepin' child. +Even the Red Dog chief is moved to softer +views, as gents frequent be followin' the +eighth drink, an' whispers to Enright, confidenshul, +that when all's in the only thing he +deplores is that old Holt is bein' planted on +Boot Hill instead of in Headboard Hollow. +At this Enright, meetin' the Red Dog chief +half-way, whispers back that later, if Red Dog +desires the same, we'll jump in an' move old +Holt a whole lot to Headboard Hollow. At +this lib'ral'ty the Red Dog chief squeezes Enright's +hand a heap fraternal, an' chokes with +emotion. He sobs out that this is the one thing +wanted to reestore them former friendly reelations +between the camps.</p> +<p>"The procession is one of the most exhil'ratin' +pageants ever seen in the Southwest. +At the head is the ploomed hearse, old Holt +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_305' name='page_305'></a>305</span> +inside, the Turner person on the box. Next +comes the stage coach, Monte drivin', an' Nell, +Missis Rucker, Tucson Jennie, little Enright +Peets, the Turner person's Peggy bride an' +other ladies inside. The balance of us attends +on our ponies, ridin' two an' two.</p> +<p>"As we're waitin' for the preacher sharp, +who's goin' in the stage, to get tucked in among +the ladies, a hollow-chested, chalk-cheeked, +sardonic-lookin', cynical-seemin' bandit, drivin' +a lean-laigged hoss to one of them spid'ry +things they calls a quill-wheel, comes pirootin' +along over to one side of the fooneral cortege +at a walk. He's p'intin' in from over Red +Dog way, but I savvys from the wonderin' +faces of them Red Dog sports that he's as new +to them as us. The cynical bandit skirts along +our procession ontil he's abreast of the hearse. +Then he pulls up, we-all not havin' had the +word to start as yet.</p> +<p>"The Turner person has hooked up old +Boomerang to the hearse, so as to confer on +this his first fooneral all the style he can. Havin' +halted his quill-wheel, the hectic bandit, +coughin' a little, p'ints his whip at Boomerang +an' says to the Turner person:</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_306' name='page_306'></a>306</span></div> +<p>"'Is this the skate you're tryin' to match +ag'inst my Toobercloses?'</p> +<p>"'Grizzly b'ars an' golden eagles!' exclaims +Boggs, who's ridin' next to me, 'if he ain't that +lunger from Albuquerque!' An' Boggs pulls +out to the left, an' crowds up towards the +hearse for a closer look.</p> +<p>"'As fooneral director,' the Turner person +replies to the hectic, quill-wheel bandit, whom +he fathoms instantly––'as fooneral director, I +must preeserve the decorums. But only you +wait, you onblushin' outlaw, ontil I've patted +down the sods on old Holt yere, an' I'll race +you for every splinter you own.'</p> +<p>"'That's all right,' retorts the hectic bandit, +givin' another little cat-cough. 'Which you +needn't get your ondertakin' back up none. +Meanwhile, I'll nacherally string along with +these obs'quies, so's to be ready to talk turkey +to you when you're through.'</p> +<p>"Enright gives the signal an', with Boomerang +an' the hearse at the head, the procession +lines out at a seedate walk for the grave.</p> +<p>"Boot Hill's been located about a mile an' +a half off, so as to give our foonerals doo effect. +As we pushes for'ard, everything +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_307' name='page_307'></a>307</span> +mighty solemn, the hectic bandit, keepin' a few +feet off to one side, walks his hoss parallel +with the hearse. Every now an' then his hoss, +makin' a half bolt as if he's been flicked by the +lash, would streak ahead a rod or two like a +four-laigged shadow. Then he'd pull him +down to a walk, an' sort o' linger along ontil +the hearse comes up ag'in. He does this a +half dozen times; an' all in a hectorin' sperit +that'd anger the pulseless soul of a clam.</p> +<p>"One way an' another it stirs up the feelin's +of old Boomerang, who's beginnin' to bite at +the bit an' throw his laigs some antic an' permiscus. +The Turner person himse'f acts like +a party who's holdin' onto his eemotions by +the tail, so as to keep 'em from breakin' loose. +His face is set, his elbows squar'd, an' he's settin' +up on his hearse as stiff an' straight as a +rifle bar'l, lookin' dead ahead between old +Boomerang's two y'ears. So it goes on for +likely half a mile, the hectic bandit seesawin' +an' pesterin' an' badgerin' old Boomerang, +now dartin' ahead, now slowin' back to let the +hearse ketch up.</p> +<p>"As I yeretofore explains, the Turner person +ain't arranged mental to entertain more'n +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_308' name='page_308'></a>308</span> +one idee at a time. My own notion is that as +the hectic bandit, with Toobercloses, commences +to encroach more an' more upon his +attention, he loses sight that a-way of old Holt +an' the fooneral. Whatever the valyoo of this +as a theery, thar comes a moment, about a +mile from Boot Hill, when, as sudden as the +crack of a rifle, away goes Boomerang with +the rush of a norther. Toobercloses ain't a second +behind. Thar they be, Toobercloses ag'inst +Boomerang, quill-wheel ag'inst hearse, old +Holt inside, racin' away to beat a royal flush.</p> +<p>"As hearse an' quill-wheel go t'arin' down +the trail Monte gets the fever, an' sets to +pourin' the buckskin into his three span, an' +yellin' like forty Apaches. The six hosses goes +into their collars like lions, an' the stage takes +to rockin' an' boundin' an' bumpin' in clost +pursoote of the hearse. Nor be we-all on +ponies left any behind, you bet. We cuts +loose, quirt an' spur, an' brings up the r'ar in a +dust-liftin', gallopin' half-moon. It's ondoubted +the quickest-movin' fooneral that ever +gets pulled off.</p> +<p>"Old Holt, an' put it lightest, is a one hundred +an' eighty pounder, an' the hearse itse'f +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_309' name='page_309'></a>309</span> +is as heavy as a Studebaker wagon. From +standp'ints of weight pore old Boomerang +ain't gettin' a squar' deal. Which the old hero +ain't got no notion of bein' beat, though. He's +all heart an' bottom; an', game?––bald hornets +is quitters to him!</p> +<p>"The load begins to tell at last, though, an' +inch by inch Toobercloses starts to nose Boomerang +out. It's then the flood-gates is lifted. +Nell, head out of one of the coach windows, +starts screamin' to Boomerang; Missis Rucker's +got her sunbonnet out of another, expressin' +her opinion of the hectic bandit an' Toobercloses; +Tucson Jennie is shoutin' for Dave to +come an' rescue her; the Turner person's +Peggy is shriekin' with hysterics; the preacher +sharp––who's tryin' to get at Monte––is talkin' +scriptoorally but various, while little Enright +Peets is contreebutin' his small cub-coyote +yelps of exultation to the gen'ral racket.</p> +<p>"Back among us riders the bets is flyin' +hither an' yon as thick as swallow birds at eventide, +we offerin' hundreds on Boomerang an' +them Red Dogs backin' Toobercloses. It's as +the tech of death to the Wolfville heart when +we sees Toobercloses slowly surgin' to the fore.</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_11' id='linki_11'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-317.jpg' alt='' title='' width='446' height='544' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +<span style='font-size:smaller'>THAR'S A BOMBARDMENT WHICH SOUNDS LIKE A BATTERY OF GATLINGS, THE WHOLE PUNCTCHOOATED BY A WHIRLWIND OF "WHOOPS!" <i>p.</i> 317.</span><br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_310' name='page_310'></a>310</span></div> +<p>"Half-way to Boot Hill Boggs spurs up on +the nigh flank of Boomerang.</p> +<p>"'Yere's whar we puts a little verve into +this thing!' he roars; an' pullin' his guns he begins +shakin' the loads out of 'em like roman +candles.</p> +<p>"Wolfville an' Red Dog, every gent follows +Boggs' example. It sounds like a battery of +gattlings, the whole punctchooated by a whirlwind +of 'Whoops!' that'd have backed a war +party of Apaches over a bluff. They almost +hears us in Tucson.</p> +<p>"Old Boomerang reesponds noble to Boggs's +six-shooters. They was the preecise kind of +encouragement he's been waitin' for, an' onder +their inspiration he t'ars by Toobercloses like a +thrown lance. We sweeps on to Boot Hill, +makin' a deemoniac finish, old Boomerang +leadin' by the len'th of the hearse.</p> +<p>"Nobody's hurt, onless you wants to count +that hectic bandit from Albuquerque. After +he's beat cold, Toobercloses gets tangled up +accidental in a mesquite bush, the quill-wheel +swaps eends with itse'f, an' the hectic Albuquerque +bandit lands head on in a bunch of +cactus. He's shore a spectacle; an' Peets says +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_311' name='page_311'></a>311</span> +private that for a while thar's hopes he'll die. +As for the parson, who's the sorest divine in +Arizona, he allows that the only bet he ever +knows prov'dence to overlook is not breakin' +the hectic bandit's neck.</p> +<p>"Nacherally, the Red Dogs feels some +grouchy at the way things has gone, an' while +they gives up their orig'nal thought of lynchin' +the hectic bandit, they're plenty indignant +at him for turnin' old Holt's fooneral into a +hoss race. It ain't old Holt that's frettin' 'em +so much as that they feels like it's a disgrace +on their camp.</p> +<p>"This yere Red Dog feelin' prodooces a onlooked +for effect. They goes gloomin' an' +glowerin' 'round, an' talkin' to themselves to +sech a hostile extent it ups an' scares the Turner +person. Plumb timid by nacher, he gets +afraid the Red Dogs' indignation'll incloode +him final, an' eend by drawin' their horns his +way. It's no use tryin' to ca'm him. Argyooment, +reemonstrance, even a promise to protect +him with our lives, has no effect. The +Turner person, in a last stampede of his nerve, +is for dustin' back to Missouri––him an' his +Peggy bride. He says it's more peaceful, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_312' name='page_312'></a>312</span> +more civ'lized thar, which shore strikes us as a +heap jocose. In the end, however, we has to +let him go.</p> +<p>"The hearse?</p> +<p>"We keeps the hearse, that an' Boomerang; +Armstrong's uncle buys 'em. He says he don't +aim to be sep'rated none from the only hearse +within a hundred miles, an' him on the verge +of the grave.</p> +<p>"'Which my only reason for livin' now,' says +he, 'is to lac'rate Boggs, an' even that as a +pastime is beginnin' to pall.'</p> +<p>"What time does Boomerang make?</p> +<p>"No one preetends to hold a watch. Thar's +one thing, though, which looks like he was +shore goin' some. Tutt on the way back picks +up a dead jack-rabbit, that's been run over by +the hearse."</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_313' name='page_313'></a>313</span> +<a name='XII_SPELLING_BOOK_BEN' id='XII_SPELLING_BOOK_BEN'></a> +<h2>XII</h2> +<h3>SPELLING BOOK BEN</h3> +</div> +<p>"Which it's as you states." The old cattleman +assumed the easy attitude of one sure of +his position. "Reefinement, that a-way, will +every now an' then hit the center of the table +in manner an' form most onexpected. Thar's +Red Dog. Now whoever do you reckon would +look for sech a oncooth outfit to go onbeltin' +in any reefined racket? An' yet thar's once at +least when Red Dog shows it's got its silken +side.</p> +<p>"An', after all, mebby I'm too narrow about +Red Dog. Thar's times when I fears that +drawn aside by prejewdyce I misjedges Red +Dog utter, an' takes for ignorant vulgar'ty +what comin' down to cases is merely noise. +It's the whiskey they drinks, most likely. +They're addicted to a kind of cat-bird whiskey +over thar, which sets 'em to whistlin' an' chirpin' +an' twitterin' an' teeterin' up an' down +on the conversational bough, to sech a seemin'ly +empty-headed extent it's calc'lated to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_314' name='page_314'></a>314</span> +mislead the ca'mest intellects into a belief +that the c'rrect way to deal with Red Dog +is to build one of these yere stone corrals +'round it, call it a loonatic asylum, an' let it +go at that.</p> +<p>"Wolfville's whiskey?</p> +<p>"We-all confines ourselves to Valley Tan +an' Willow Run an' Old Jordan, all lickers +which has a distinct tendency to make a gent +seedate, an' render him plumb cer'monious. I +in no wise exaggerates when I avers that I +freequent cuts the trail of parties who, after +the tenth or mebby it's the 'leventh drink +across the Red Light bar, waxes that punctillious +they even addresses a measly Mexican +as 'Sir.'</p> +<p>"Recurrin' to Red Dog, that silken occasion +which I has in mind occurs when, proceedin' +without invitation an' wholly as volunteers, +they strings up the book-keep sharp who +bumps off Spellin' Book Ben. Thar's a brief +moment when said action runs a profound +risk of bein' misconstrooed into becomin' +the teemin' source of complications. You see +we ain't lookin' for nothin' in the way of a +play from Red Dog more del'cate than the +butt of a six-shooter, an' it ain't ontil the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_315' name='page_315'></a>315</span> +Red Dog chief himse'f onlimbers in +planations, an' all plenty loocid, that we +ketches fully on.</p> +<p>"Red Dog goes further an' insists on payin' +over what money they wagers, an' all as honorable +as though that contest which they bets on +goes to a showdown. Enright won't have it, +though, none whatever; an' what with one side +heatedly profferin' an' the other coldly refoosin', +it looks for a time like thar's goin' to be +feelin'. Friction is averted, however, when +Peets––who's allers thar with the s'lootion to +any tangle––recommends that Red Dog an' +Wolfville chip in half an' half conj'intly, to +buy a tombstone for Spellin' Book, with a inscription +kyarved tharon, the same to read:</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent8'> </span>TO<br /> +<span class='indent4'> </span>THE MEMORY OF<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>SPELLING BOOK BEN.<br /> +PREFERRING DEATH TO THE<br /> +APPEARANCE OF IGNORANCE,<br /> +<span class='indent6'> </span>HE DIED<br /> +A MARTYR TO LEARNING AND<br /> +<span class='indent6'> </span>BRAVELY<br /> +DEFENDING A RIGHTFUL ORTHOGRAPHY.<br /> +<span class='indent1'> </span>THE LANGUAGE MOURNS<br /> +<span class='indent5'> </span>HIS LOSS.</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>"'Which we simply aims by this yere hangin',' +says the Red Dog chief in makin' them +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_316' name='page_316'></a>316</span> +explanations, the same bein' addressed to Enright, +'to save you-all from a disagree'ble +dooty.'</p> +<p>"'As how?' deemands Enright, who's a heap +deefensive by instinct, an' never puts down his +stack while the kyards is in the hands of the +dealer.</p> +<p>"'As how to wit,' returns the Red Dog chief. +'Troo, this book-keep malefactor ain't by rights +no shore-enough Red Dogger, seein' he's a importation +of the express company's an' at best +or worst no more'n a sojourner within our +gates. But, considerin' how he trails in yere +this evenin' in our company, we feels respons'ble. +Wharfore, allowin' that mebby––you-all +standin' towards us visitors, that a-way, in +the light of hosts––your notion of hospital'ty +gets its spurs tangled up in your deelib'rations +so it impedes the march of jestice, we intervenes. +Which I shorely trusts that no gent +present regyards Red Dog as that ontaught +as to go cuttin' in on what's cl'arly a alien +game onasked. Red Dog ain't quite that exyooberantly +bumptious, not to say croodly gay. +It's only to relieve the shoulders of you-all +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_317' name='page_317'></a>317</span> +from a burden that we strings said offender +up.'</p> +<p>"'<i>Bueno!</i>' replies Enright, followin' a dignified +pause, like he's weighin' the Red Dog +chief's eloocidations. 'A gent, onless his hand +is crowded by some p'int of honor, allers takes +the word of a fellow gent. In view of which, +the execootion you pulls off is yereby accepted +as kindly meant, an' as sech is kindly took. +I'm preepared on behalf of Wolfville to regyard +the same as performed in a sperit of +del'cate courtesy. Whatever, Doc, do you-all +say?'</p> +<p>"'Like yourse'f, Sam,' says Peets, 'I grasps +an' a'preeciates the Red Dog attitoode. Also, +I holds that the business thus constrooed is +calc'lated to cement relations between the two +camps which, havin' their roots in mutyooal +esteem, is shore to b'ar froote in fraternal affection.'</p> +<p>"The Doc then goes on an' onbends in flatterin' +asshorances that nothin' could be finer +worded than the Red Dog chief's oration, onless +it's Enright's reply.</p> +<p>"'As a jedge of diction,' he concloods, 'an' +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_318' name='page_318'></a>318</span> +a lover of proper speakin', I'm onreserved in +the view that the statements of both ought to +be preeserved as spec'mens of English ondeefiled.'</p> +<p>"Thar havin' been talk enough, an' Enright +an' Peets contendin' that it's Wolfville's treat, +both sides goes weavin' over to the Red Light +an' onbends in quite a frolic.</p> +<p>"It'd shore been better if we had first cut +down the corpse, an' tharby dodged the wrath +of Missis Rucker. It's certainly a oversight. +Bar that single incident, thar arises nothin' to +mar the good feelin' which everywhar preevails. +Forchoonately, that don't occur none +ontil noon next day; an' by that time the Red +Dog folks has all gone home, leastwise all who +can go without fallin' out of the saddle. Which +if them Red Dogs is present, an' able to form +opinions, them intemp'rate exhibitions of +Missis Rucker, an' what she says an' threatens +ag'inst us, speshully Enright, would have +mortified us to death.</p> +<p>"As showin' the vagaries of the female mind, +Missis Rucker seelects that lynchin' as a topic +at chuck time, an' she shore does carry on +scand'lous. We ain't but jest filed into the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_319' name='page_319'></a>319</span> +dinin' room, when she t'ars loose at Enright +like a cyclone in a calico dress. Son, she certainly +does curry our old Lycurgus frightful!</p> +<p>"What does Enright do?</p> +<p>"Whatever can he do more'n mootely arch +his back, same as a mule in a storm of hail, an' +stand it?</p> +<p>"When Missis Rucker has done freed her +feelin's, an' got them reecrim'nations dealt +down to the turn, she shakes a finger onder +Enright's subdooed nose, an' fulm'nates a +warnin'.</p> +<p>"'I tells you once before, Sam Enright,' she +says, 'an' I tells you now ag'in, that you-all +drunkards is either goin' to cease pesterin' me +the way you does, or I'm bound I'll make some +among you plenty hard to locate. Now don't +you go tellin' me nothin',' she shouts, as Enright +starts to say somethin'; 'don't go harrowin' +me up with none of your fabrications. It's +nothin' but your egreegious pompos'ty that +a-way, an' a gen'ral deesire to put on dog an' +lord it over us pore females with meals to cook +an' water to draw, which sets you-all to hangin' +parties to the windmill whar they're plumb +in the way. An' all after me takin' my hands +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_320' name='page_320'></a>320</span> +out of the dough, too, the time you Stranglers +puts that B'ar Creek Stanton over the jump, +an' goin' in person to the stage corral to p'int +out a beam which is a heap better adapted.'</p> +<p>"'But, ma'am,' expostyoolates Enright, +'you've done followed off the wrong wagon +track entire. It ain't us none; it's them Red +Dog savages. So far as Wolfville's concerned, +him bein' swung to the windmill, that +a-way, is plumb fortooitous.'</p> +<p>"'Jest the same,' returns Missis Rucker, +who's merciless an' refooses to be softened, +'you better take heed a heap. This once I lets +you get away with that Red Dog crawl-out. +But if ever I finds another party suspended to +the windmill so's I can't get no water, thar's a +passel of sots, of whom you, Sam Enright, is +the onregen'rate chief, who'll shore get their +grub fortooitous.'</p> +<p>"Peets, at this yere crisis, jogs Enright's +elbow, by way of signin' up to him to draw out; +an', except from her domineerin' over Rucker +more'n common for a couple of days, she ceases +her demonstrations.</p> +<p>"Not but what Missis Rucker has some +rights on her side. What with feedin' forty +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_321' name='page_321'></a>321</span> +of us folks three times a day, she's got a lot +on her mind; an' to find some sooperfluous +sport hangin' in her way, when she goes to fill +her bucket, necessar'ly chafes her.</p> +<p>"An' yet the Stranglers is up ag'inst it, too. +Hangin' a culprit, dooly convicted, is a public +game; an' the windmill's the only piece of public +property in sight, besides bein' centrally +sityooated. Also, thar's nothin' in that corral +bluff of Missis Rucker's. The beam she alloodes +to ain't big enough, an' is likewise too +low.</p> +<p>"Boggs, who sympathizes with Missis +Rucker, once when we has a hoss thief we don't +need on our hands, su'gests we rope him up to +the sign over Armstrong's Noo York store. +But thar's rival trade interests, an' Enright +fears it'll be took invidious as a covert scheme +for drawin' custom to Armstrong's emporium.</p> +<p>"'Personally,' says Enright, 'I favors Dan's +idee. But since Armstrong's a member of the +committee, you-all sees yourselves that for us +to go execootin' culprits on his sign that a-way, +the direct effects of which distinguishes him an' +booms his game, would shore breed jealousies.'</p> +<p>"'How would it do,' asks Texas, 'if we takes +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_322' name='page_322'></a>322</span> +them marts seeriatim, an' one after another +yootilizes all their signs?'</p> +<p>"'With doo deference to Texas,' interjecks +Tutt, 'this swingin' round from sign to sign, +with deeds of jestice, is a heap likely to subtract +from the deterrent effects. It's better we +stick to the windmill, an' takes chances on beddin' +them resentments of Missis Rucker's +down.'</p> +<p>"'That's all right for you, Dave,' retorts +Boggs; 'you're a married man, an' eats at +home. You wouldn't feel so plumb gala about +quietin' Missis Rucker if you-all was obleeged +diurnal to depend upon that easily exasperated +matron for your <i>frijoles</i>, same as us. +Tucson Jennie's the best cook in Cochise +County, an', bein' her husband that a-way, you +ain't in no place to jedge.'</p> +<p>"'Dan's right, Dave,' declar's Peets; 'surrounded +as you be, you can't sense our peril, +that is, sense it proper. Admirable as Tucson +Jennie is as wife an' mother, an' I says this onbiased +by bein' one of two after whom little +Enright Peets is named, she's still more admirable +in her rôle of cook. For which reason, +Dave, you-all, when Missis Rucker threatens +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_323' name='page_323'></a>323</span> +us, ain't able, as Dan says, to rightly gauge +said menaces.'</p> +<p>"Them coolinary compliments to Tucson +Jennie placates Tutt. He's half started +to bow his neck at Boggs, but they mollifies +him.</p> +<p>"'Mighty likely you're correct, Doc,' he returns, +his face cl'arin'; 'an' I begs Dan's pardon +for some things I was goin' to say. My +wife is shore an exempl'ry cook, an' mebby I +ain't no fit jedge. None the less, you-all'll +find, as to them hangin's, that this yere goin' +about from pillar to post with 'em is doo to +rob 'em of their moral side.'</p> +<p>"'I feels like Dave,' observes Enright, comin' +in on the pow-wow. 'Lynchin's, to have +weight an' be a credit to us, ought not to be +erratic. A lack of reg'larity about 'em would +shake our standin' as a camp.'</p> +<p>"Monte starts the business that time when +Red Dog astounds us with its del'cacy, +by comin' bulgin' in one evenin' with word +about how the leadin' inflooences in Tucson +is broke out in a perfect deebauch of spellin' +schools.</p> +<p>"'An' I'm yere to remark,' says he, in his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_324' name='page_324'></a>324</span> +conceited, rum-soaked way, 'that these yere +contests contreebootes a mighty meetropol'tan +atmosphere.'</p> +<p>"'Who orig'nates spellin' schools, anyway?' +asks Boggs, whose curiosity is allers at half-cock. +'Which it's the first time I hears of sech +things.'</p> +<p>"'Spellin' schools ain't nothin' new,' Peets +replies. 'They're as common as deelirum treemons +in the East.'</p> +<p>"'Which they certainly be,' corroborates +Enright. 'Back along the Cumberland, as far +away as when I'm a boy, we has 'em constant +same as chills an' fever. We-all young bucks +attends 'em mighty loyal, too, an' fights to see +who-all goes home with the girls. When it +comes to bein' pop'lar, spellin' schools is a even +break with gander pullin's.'</p> +<p>"'Thar's a Tucson kyard sharp,' continyoos +Monte, 'over to the Oriental s'loon, who tells +me them spellin' schools is likewise all the +rage in Prescott an' Benson an' Silver City. +That Lightnin' Bug tarrapin' from Red Dog +is loafin' about, too, while the kyard sharp's +talkin', his y'ears a-wavin' like a field of clover. +You don't figger thar's a chance that Red Dog +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_325' name='page_325'></a>325</span> +gets the notion, Sam, an' takes to holdin' them +tournaments of learnin' itse'f?'</p> +<p>"What Monte says sets us thinkin'. As a +roole we don't pay much heed to his observations, +the same bein' freequent born of alcohol. +But that bluff about Red Dog sort o' scares +us up a lot. Good can come out of Nazareth, +an' even Monte might once in a while drive +the center as a matter of luck.</p> +<p>"'It wouldn't do us, Doc,' says Enright, +who's made some oneasy by the thought––'which +it shore wouldn't do us, as an advanced +camp, to let Red Dog beat us to them spellin' +schools.'</p> +<p>"'I should confess as much!' admits Peets, +mighty emphatic. 'Speakin' from commoonal +standp'ints, it'd mark us as too dead to skin.'</p> +<p>"The sityooation takes shape in a resolootion +to hold a spellin' school ourselves, an' invite +Red Dog to stand in. Sech steps is calc'lated, +we allows, to head off orig'nal action on the +Red Dog part.</p> +<p>"'Let's challenge 'em to spell ag'in us,' says +Texas. 'That's shore to stop 'em from holdin' +spellin' schools of their own, an' it'll be as +simple as tailin' steers to down 'em. I'll gamble +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_326' name='page_326'></a>326</span> +what odds you please that, when it comes +to edyoocation that a-way, we can make them +Red Dogs look like a bunch of Digger Injuns.'</p> +<p>"'Don't move your stack to the center on +that proposition, Texas,' observes Tutt, 'ontil +you thoroughly skins your hand. Edyoocation +ain't wholly dead in Red Dog. Thar's a +shorthorn over thar, him who keeps books for +the Wells-Fargo folks, who's edyoocated to a +razor edge.'</p> +<p>"'Him?' says Boggs. 'That murderer ain't +no book sharp speshul. Put him ag'in the +Doc or Col'nel Sterett, an' he wouldn't last as +long as a quart of whiskey at a barn raisin'. +Which he's a heap sight better fitted to shine +in a gun-play than a spellin' contest.'</p> +<p>"'But Col'nel Sterett ain't here none,' Tutt +urges, 'havin' gone back to see his folks; an' +as for the Doc, he'll be needed to put out the +words. Some competent gent's got to go back +of the box an' deal the game, an' the Doc's the +only stoodent in town who answers that deescription.'</p> +<p>"Armstrong, who's happened along lookin' +for his little old forty drops, lets on he knows +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_327' name='page_327'></a>327</span> +a party down in El Paso who can spell any +word that ever lurks between the covers of a +dictionary.</p> +<p>"'That's straight,' Armstrong declar's. +'This yere El Paso savant can spell anything. +Which I've seen him spell the hind shoes off a +shavetail mule for the drinks. He's the boss +speller of the Rio Grande, so much so they calls +him "Spellin' Book Ben."'</p> +<p>"'Let's rope him up,' Peets suggests. +'Which them Red Dogs never will quit talkin' +if we-all lets 'em down us.'</p> +<p>"'Do you-all reckon,' asks Enright, appealin' +to Armstrong, 'you could lure that El Paso +expert up yere to partic'pate in this battle of +the intellects?'</p> +<p>"'It's as easy as playin' seven-up,' Armstrong +replies. 'Which I'll write him I needs +his aid to count up the stock in my store, an' +you bet he'll come a-runnin'.'</p> +<p>"'But s'ppose,' argues Tutt, 'these Red Dog +crim'nals wakes up to it that this yere Spellin' +Book Ben's a ringer?'</p> +<p>"'In that event,' declar's Texas, 'we retorts +by beltin' 'em over the heads with our guns. +Be they, as guests, to go dictatin' terms to us?'</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_328' name='page_328'></a>328</span></div> +<p>"'Not onless they're tired of life,' says +Boggs. 'While I can't spell none to speak of, +seein' my Missouri youth is more or less +neglected by my folks, showin' some Red Dog +felon whar he's in wrong is duck soup to me. +In a play like that I sees my way triumphant.'</p> +<p>"'Shore!' Texas insists, mighty confident; +'let Red Dog wag one feeble y'ear, an' we buffaloes +it into instant submission.'</p> +<p>"'They can't make no objections stick,' Enright +observes, after thinkin' things over. +'This Spellin' Book Ben person'll be workin' +for Armstrong, an' that, as the Doc says, +makes him a <i>pro tem.</i> citizen of the camp. +As sech he's plumb legit'mate. Red Dog +couldn't lower its horns at him as a hold-out, +even if it would.'</p> +<p>"It's settled, an' from then on thar's nothin' +talked of but spellin' schools. We issues our +deefiance, Peets b'arin' the same, an' Red Dog +promptly calls our bluff. Regyardin' themselves +as entrenched in that gifted Wells-Fargo +book-keep, they're mighty eager for the +fray. The <i>baile</i> is set two weeks away, with +Peets to hold the spellin' book.</p> +<p>"After the time is fixed Monte comes squanderin' +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_329' name='page_329'></a>329</span> +along an' gets Enright to move it one +day further on.</p> +<p>"'Because, Sam,' the old sot urges, puffin' +out his chest like he amounts to somethin', +'that partic'lar evenin' you pitches upon I'll be +at the other end of the route, an' I proposes to +get in on this yere contest some myse'f.'</p> +<p>"'You?' says Boggs, who overhears him, an' +is nacherally astonished an' contempchoous at +Monte's nerve. 'Whatever be you-all talkin' +about? You can't spell none no more than +me. The first word the Doc names'll make +you look like a pig at church.'</p> +<p>"'All the same'––for Monte's been drinkin', +an' allers gets stubborn in direct proportion +to what licker he tucks onder his belt––'all +the same, Dan, as to this yere spellin', +I proposes to ask for kyards. Even if I ain't +no Bach'lor of Arts, so long as the Doc don't +fire nothin' at me worse'n words of one syllable, +an' don't send 'em along faster than two +at a clatter, your Uncle Monte'll get thar, collars +creakin', chains a-rattlin', with both hoofs.'</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_12' id='linki_12'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-337.jpg' alt='' title='' width='390' height='595' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +<span style='font-size:smaller'>"ONLESS GIRLS IS BARRED," DECLARES FARO NELL, FROM HER PERCH ON THE CHAIR "I'VE A NOTION TO TAKE A HAND." <i>p.</i> 337.</span><br /> +</p> +</div> +<p>"Red Dog not only accepts our challenge, +but gets that brash it offers to bet. Shore, we +closes with the prop'sition. It ain't no part of +our civic economy to let Red Dog get by with +anything. I reckons, up one side an' down the +other, we puts up the price of eight hundred +steers. Texas and Boggs simply goes all +spraddled out at it, while Cherokee calls down +one eboolient Red Dog specyoolator for three +thousand dollars. It's Wolfville ag'inst Red +Dog, the roole to govern, 'Miss an' out!'</p> +<p>"The excitement even reaches the gentler +sect.</p> +<p>"'Which onless girls is barred,' declar's +Nell, speakin' from her lookout cha'r the second +evenin' before the spellin' school is held, +'I've a notion to take a hand.'</p> +<p>"'It wouldn't be a squar' deal, Nellie,' says +Texas. 'With you in, everybody'd miss a-purpose.'</p> +<p>"'I don't see why none,' says Nell.</p> +<p>"'For two reasons; first, because you're dazzlin'ly +beautiful; an', second, because Cherokee's +too good a shot.'</p> +<p>"'Shore,' says Boggs, plantin' a stack of +reds open on the high kyard. 'Them contestants'd +all lay down to you, Nellie. You certainly +don't reckon Cherokee'd set thar, him +all framed up with a Colt's .45, an' be that ongallant +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_330' name='page_330'></a>330</span> +as to permit some clown to spell you +down?'</p> +<p>"Nell don't insist, an' the turn fallin' 'king-jack,' +she nacherally moves Boggs's reds to +the check-rack.</p> +<p>"On the great evenin' Red Dog comes surgin' +in upon us, snortin' an' prancin' an' pitchin'. +Which it certainly is a confident band of +prairie dogs. Wolfville's organized and ready, +Armstrong's Spellin' Book Ben party havin' +come over from El Paso three days prior.</p> +<p>"Seein' how mighty se'f-possessed them Red +Dogs feel, Boggs begins to grow nervous.</p> +<p>"'You don't reckon, Dave,' says he, speakin' +to Tutt, 'that them miscreents has got anything +up their sleeve?––any little thing like a +ace buried?'</p> +<p>"'Which they wouldn't dare. Also, since +you brings the matter up, Dan, I now gives +notice that for myse'f I shall regyard success +on their part as absoloote proof of perfidy. +That settled, I sacks that hamlet of Red Dog, +an' plows an' sows its deboshed site with +salt.'</p> +<p>"'That's the talk!' says Boggs. 'Let 'em win +once, an' you an' me, Dave,'ll caper over in our +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_331' name='page_331'></a>331</span> +individyooal capac'ty, an' lay waste that Red +Dog hamlet if it's the last act of our lives.'</p> +<p>"The spellin' school is schedjooled for the +r'ar wareroom of the Noo York store, whar +the Stranglers convenes. All Red Dog is thar, +dressed up like a hoss, their Wells-Fargo book-keep +in their exultant midst. Enright calls +the meetin' to order with the butt of his six-shooter; +our old warchief allers uses his gun +as a gavel that a-way, as lookin' more offishul. +Also, since the dooty of a presidin' officer is to +preserve order, it's in line to begin with a show––not +too ondecorous––of force.</p> +<p>"Enright states the object of the gatherin', +an' Peets, spellin' book in hand, swings into +the saddle an' in a moment is off at a road gait. +The words falls thick an' sharp, like the crackin' +of a rifle. Which they shore does thin out +them contestants plenty rapid! Boggs goes +down before 'Theery,' spellin' it with a extra +'e.' Tutt lasts through three fires, but is sent +curlin' like a shot jack-rabbit by 'Epitaph,' +which he ends with a 'f.' Texas dies on 'Definite,' +bein' misled by what happens to Tutt +into introdoocin' tharin a sooperfluous 'ph.'</p> +<p>"'I ain't none astonished,' Texas says sadly, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_332' name='page_332'></a>332</span> +when Peets informs him that he's in the diskyard; +'since ever my former Laredo wife acquires +that divorce, together with al'mony an' +the reestoration of her maiden name, the same +bein' Suggs, I ain't been the onerrin' speller +I once was.'</p> +<p>"Cherokee has luck, an' lasts for quite a +time. It's the 'leventh word that fetches him. +An' at that thar's a heap to be said on the side +of Cherokee.</p> +<p>"The word's 'Capitol,' as Peets lets it fly.</p> +<p>"'C-a-p-i-t-a-l,' spells Cherokee.</p> +<p>"'Dead bird!' Peets says, plenty sententious.</p> +<p>"'Whatever kind o' capital?'</p> +<p>"'Capitol of a State.'</p> +<p>"'Then I misonderstands you. Which I +takes it you're referrin' to a bankroll.'</p> +<p>"The Doc, however, is obdoorate, an' Cherokee +shoves back.</p> +<p>"'I think,' says Nell, whisperin' to Missis +Rucker an' Tucson Jennie, who, with little Enright +Peets, is off to one side––'I think the +Doc's a mighty sight too contracted in his +scope.'</p> +<p>"Monte falls by the wayside on 'Scenery,' +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_333' name='page_333'></a>333</span> +an' is that preepost'rous he starts to give Peets +an argyooment. Monte spells it 'Seenry.'</p> +<p>"'Whar do you-all get your licence, Doc,' +he demands, when Peets tells him how it's +spelled, 'to jam in that misfit "c"? Me havin' +drove stage for twenty years, I've seen as +much scenery as any gent present, an' should +shore know how it's spelled. Scenery is what +you sees. "S-e-e" spells see; an' tharfore I +contends that "S-e-e-n-r-y" spells scenery. +That "c" you springs on us, Doc, is a solecism, +an' as much out of place as a cow on a front +porch.'</p> +<p>"Enright raps Monte down. '"Scenery" is +spelled any way which the Doc says,' declar's +Enright, his eye some severe, 'an' I trusts no +gent'll compel the cha'r to take measures.'</p> +<p>"'Say no more,' responds Monte, plenty +humble and prompt. 'What I urges is only +to 'licit information. I still thinks, however, +that onder the gen'ral wellfare clause of the +constitootion, an' with an onfenced alphabet +to pick an' choose from, a sport ought to have +the inalienable right to spell things the way he +likes. Otherwise, whatever is the use of callin' +this a free country? If a gent's to be compelled +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_334' name='page_334'></a>334</span> +to spell scenery with a fool "c," I asks +you why was Yorktown an' wharfore Bunker +Hill?'</p> +<p>"Monte, havin' thus onloaded, reetires to the +r'ar, coverin' his chagrin by hummin' a stanzy +or two from the well-known ditty, 'Bill, of +Smoky Hill.'</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>Bill driv three spans of hosses,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>An' when Injuns hove in sight,<br /> +He'd holler "Fellers, give 'em hell!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>I ain't got time to fight."<br /> +<br /> +But he chanced one time to run ag'in<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>A bullet made of lead,<br /> +An' when they brung Bill into town,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>A bar'l of tears was shed.</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>"While Texas an' Boggs an' Tutt an' Cherokee +an' Monte an' the rest of the Wolfville +outfit is fallin' like November's leaves, +them Red Dog bandits is fadin' jest as fast. +If anything, they're fadin' faster. They're +too p'lite or too proodent to cavil at the presence +of Spellin' Book Ben, an' by third drink +time after we starts thar's no gents left standin' +except that Wells-Fargo book-keep sharp +for Red Dog, an' Spellin' Book for us. It's +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_335' name='page_335'></a>335</span> +give an' take between 'em for mebby one hundred +words, an' neither so much as stubs his +orthographic toe.</p> +<p>"The evenin' w'ars into what them poets +calls the 'small hours.' Missis Rucker is wearily +battin' her eyes, while little Enright Peets +is snorin' guinea-pig snores in Tucson Jennie's +lap.</p> +<p>"Thar comes a pause for Black Jack to pass +the refreshments, an' Nell takes advantage of +the lull.</p> +<p>"'Hopin' no one,' says Nell, 'will think us +onp'lite, we ladies will retire. Jedgin' from +the way little Enright Peets sounds, not +to mention how I feels or Missis Rucker +looks, it's time we weaker vessels hits the +blankets.'</p> +<p>"'Yes, indeed,' adds Missis Rucker, smothering +a yawn with her hand; 'I'd certainly admire +to stay a whole lot, but rememberin' the +hour I thinks, like Nellie, that we-all ladies +better pull our freight.'</p> +<p>"Enright settin' the example, we gents +stands up while the ladies withdraws, little Enright +Peets bein' drug along between Nell an' +Tucson Jennie plumb inert.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_336' name='page_336'></a>336</span></div> +<p>"Peets resoomes his word-callin', an' them +two heroes spells on for a hour longer.</p> +<p>"At last, however, the Wells-Fargo book-keep +sharp commences to turn shaky; the pressure's +beginnin' to tell. As for Spellin' Book +Ben, he's as steady as a church.</p> +<p>"'By the grave of Moses, Dan,' Tutt whispers +to Boggs, 'that Red Dog imposter's on +the brink of a stampede.'</p> +<p>"Peets gives out 'colander'; it's Spellin' +Book Ben's turn. As he starts to whirl his verbal +loop the Red Dog adept whips out his gun, +an' jams it ag'inst Spellin' Book's ribs.</p> +<p>"'Spell it with a "u,"' says the Red Dog +sharp, 'or I'll shore send you shoutin' home to +heaven! Which I've stood all of your dad-binged +eryoodition my nerves is calk'lated to +endoore.'</p> +<p>"Spellin' Book Ben's game, game as yaller +wasps. With the cold muzzle of that book-keep +murderer's hint to the onconverted pushin' +into his side, he never flickers.</p> +<p>"'C-o,' he begins.</p> +<p>"But that's as far as he ever gets. Thar's +a dull roar, an' pore Spellin' Book comes slidin' +from his learned perch. It's done so quick +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_337' name='page_337'></a>337</span> +that not even Jack Moore has time to hedge a +stack down the other way.</p> +<p>"'It's too late, Doc,' says pore Spellin' +Book, as Peets stoops over him; 'he gets me all +right.' Then he rolls a gen'ral eye on all. +'Gents,' he says, 'don't send my remainder back +to El Paso. Boot Hill does me.'</p> +<p>"Them's Spellin' Book's last words, an' they +does him proud.</p> +<p>"It's the Lightnin' Bug who grabs the murderin' +book-keep sharp, an' takes his gun +away. Then he swings him before Enright.</p> +<p>"'He's your pris'ner,' says the Red Dog +chief, actin' for his outfit, an' Enright bows his +acknowledgments.</p> +<p>"Son, it's a lesson to see them two leaders +of men. Enright never shows up nobler, +an' you can wager your bottom peso that the +Red Dog chief is a long shot from bein' a +slouch.</p> +<p>"Jack Moore takes the Wells-Fargo book-keep +homicide in charge, while Enright, who +declar's that jestice to be effectyooal must be +swift, says that onless shown reason he'll convene +the committee at once. He adds, likewise, +that it'll be kindly took if the Red Dog +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_338' name='page_338'></a>338</span> +chief, an' what members of his triboonal is +present, will b'ar their part.</p> +<p>"In all p'liteness, the Red Dog chief deeclines.</p> +<p>"'This is your joorisdiction,' he says, 'an' +we Red Dogs can only return the compliment +which your su'gestion implies by asshorin' you-all +of our advance confidence in the rectitoode +of what jedgments you inflicts.'</p> +<p>"'Speak your piece,' says Enright to the +Wells-Fargo book-keep culprit, when stood up +before him by Moore. 'Whatever prompts +you to blow out this Spellin' Book Ben's candle +that a-way?'</p> +<p>"'Let me say,' exclaims the Wells-Fargo +book-keep murderer, an' his manner is some +torrid, 'that I has five hundred dollars bet on +this yere contest–––'</p> +<p>"'That is a question,' interrupts Enright, +suave but plenty firm, 'which will doubtless +prove interestin' to your execooter. This, +however, is not the time nor place. I asks +ag'in, whatever is your reason for shovin' this +yere expert in orthography from shore?'</p> +<p>"'Do you-all think,' returns the Wells-Fargo +murderer, 'that I'll abide to see a obscoority +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_339' name='page_339'></a>339</span> +like him outspell me?––me, who's the +leadin' speller of eight States and two territories, +an' never scores less than sixty-five +out of a poss'ble fifty? Which I'd sooner +die.'</p> +<p>"'So you'd sooner die?' repeats Enright, as +cold an' dark an' short as a November day. +'Well, most folks don't get their sooners in +this world, but it looks a heap like you will!' +Turnin' to Moore, he goes on: 'Our friends +from Red Dog'll hold your captive, Jack, +while you-all goes rummagin' over to the corral +an' gets a rope, the committee havin' come +onprovided.'</p> +<p>"Moore gives the Wells-Fargo homicide to +the Red-Dog chief, an' tharupon, we Stranglers +bein' ready to go into execyootive session, all +hands except Enright an' the committee steps +outside. We're in confab mebby it's ten minutes, +an' Enright has jest approved a yoonanimous +vote in favor of hangin', when thar's a +modest tap at the door.</p> +<p>"It's the Lightnin' Bug.</p> +<p>"'It ain't,' he says, when we asks his mission, +'that we-all aims to disturb your deelib'rations +none, gents, but the chief'd like to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_340' name='page_340'></a>340</span> +borry Doc Peets for five minutes to say a few +words over the corpse.'</p> +<p>"Upon this yere hint we-all gambols forth, +an' finds what's left of the Wells-Fargo book-keep +murderer adornin' the windmill. Thar's +whar their del'cacy comes in; that's how them +Red Dogs saves us from a disagree'ble dooty.</p> +<p>"We plants Spellin' Book Ben on Boot Hill +as per that sufferer's last request, an' Red Dog +graces the obsequies to a man. Thar Spellin' +Book lies to-day; an' the story of his ontoward +takin' off, as told on that tombstone conj'intly +erected as aforesaid by Wolfville an' Red Dog, +is anyooally read by scores of devotees of +learnin' who, bar'-headed an' mournful, comes +as pilgrims to his grave."</p> +<p style='text-align:center;margin-top:1.5em;margin-bottom:1em'>THE END</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p>"THE ART OF THE PHOTOPLAY" is a condensed +textbook of the technical knowledge necessary for +the preparation and sale of motion picture scenarios. +More than 35,000 photoplays are produced annually in the +United States. The work of staff-writers is insufficient. +Free-lance writers have greater opportunities than ever +before, for the producing companies can not secure enough +good comedies and dramas for their needs. The first edition +of this book met with unusual success. Its author, now +the Director General of Productions for the Beaux Arts Film +Corporation, is the highest paid scenario writer in the world, +as well as being a successful producing manager. Among his +successes were the scenarios for the spectacular productions: +"Robin Hood," "The Squaw Man," "The Banker's Daughter," +"The Fire King," "Checkers," "The Curse of Cocaine" and +"The Kentucky Derby."</p> + +<p class='tp' style='font-size:1.2em;margin-top:10px;'>WHAT THOSE WHO KNOW HAVE SAID:</p> + +<p>"In my opinion, based upon six years' experience producing motion pictures, +Mr. Eustace Hale Ball is the most capable scenario writer in the business to-day." +</p> + +<table summary='' style='margin: 0 0 0 auto'><tr><td>(Signed) <span class='smcap'>W. F. Haddock</span>,<br />Producing Director with Edison, Eclair, All Star, and<br />now President, Mirror Film Corporation.</td></tr></table> + +<p>"Mr. Ball has thoroughly grasped present day and future possibilities of the +Moving Picture business with relation to the opportunities for real good work by +scenario writers."</p> + +<table summary='' style='margin: 0 0 0 auto'><tr><td>(Signed) <span class='smcap'>P. Kimberley</span>,<br />Managing Director, Imperial Film Company, Ltd.,<br />London, England.</td></tr></table> + +<p>"To those who wish to earn some of the money which the moving picture +folk disburse, Eustace Hale Ball proffers expert and valuable advice."</p> + +<table summary='' style='margin: 0 0 0 auto'><tr><td><span class='smcap'>New York Times Review of Books.</span></td></tr></table> + +<p>"Ball's Art of the Photoplay puts into concrete form, with expert simplicity, +the secrets of writing photoplays which appeal to the millions of Americans +who attend the theatres and the producers can not buy enough of such plays to +satisfy the exhibitors."</p> + +<table summary='' style='margin: 0 0 0 auto'><tr><td>(Signed) <span class='smcap'>Robert Lee Macnabb</span>,<br />National Vice-President, Motion Picture<br />Exhibitor's League of America.</td></tr></table> + +<p>"You have succeeded in producing a clear and helpul exposition of the subject."</p> + +<table summary='' style='margin: 0 0 0 auto'><tr><td>(Signed) <span class='smcap'>Wm. R. Kane</span>,<br />Editor of "The Editor Magazine."</td></tr></table> + +<p style='text-align:center;'><i>12 mo. Cloth bound, $1.00 Net.</i></p> + +<p style='text-align:center;'>G. W. DILLINGHAM CO., Publishers NEW YORK</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:1.4em;'>THREE SPLENDID BOOKS BY</p> + +<p class='tp' style='font-size:1.8em;'>ALFRED HENRY LEWIS</p> + +<hr style='border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; width:60%' /> + +<p style='text-align:center;font-size:1.4em;'>FARO NELL AND HER FRIENDS</p> + +<p>A new story of "Wolfville" days––the best of all. It +pictures the fine comradeship, broad understanding and +simple loyalty of Faro Nell to her friends. Here we meet +again Old Monte, Dave Tutt, Cynthiana, Pet-Named +Original Sin, Dead Shot Baker, Doc Peets, Old Man Enright, +Dan Boggs, Texas and Black Jack, the rough-actioned, +good-hearted men and women who helped to +make this author famous as a teller of tales of Western +frontier life.</p> + +<p style='text-align:center;'><i>12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Popular Edition. 50 Cents</i></p> + +<p style='text-align:center;font-size:1.4em;margin-top:20px;'>THE APACHES OF NEW YORK</p> + +<p>A truthful account of actual happenings in the underworld +of vice and crime in the metropolis, that gives an +appalling insight into the life of the New York criminal. +It contains intimate, inside information concerning the +gang fights and the gang tyranny that has since startled +the entire world. The book embraces twelve stories of +grim, dark facts secured directly from the lips of the +police and the gangsters themselves.</p> + +<p style='text-align:center;'><i>12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Popular Edition. 50 Cents</i></p> + +<p style='text-align:center;font-size:1.4em;margin-top:20px;'>THE STORY OF PAUL JONES</p> + +<p>A wonderful historical romance. A story of the boyhood +and later life of that daring and intrepid sailor +whose remains are now in America. Thousands and tens +of thousands have read it and admired it. Many consider +it one of the best books Mr. Lewis has produced.</p> + +<p style='text-align:center;'><i>12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Popular Edition. 50 Cents</i></p> + +<hr style='border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; width:40%; margin-top:20px;' /> + +<p class='tp' style='font-size:larger;'>G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY</p> + +<p class='tp'>Publishers New York</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:1.2em;'><i>Nine Splendid Novels by</i></p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:1.8em; margin-bottom:20px;'>WILLIAM MacLEOD RAINE</p> +<p>THE PIRATE OF PANAMA</p> +<p>A tale of old-time pirates and of modern love, hate and adventure. The +scene is laid in San Francisco on board <i>The Argus</i> and in Panama. A romantic +search for the lost pirate gold. An absorbing love-story runs through +the book.</p> +<p class='ralign'><i>12mo, Cloth, Jacket in Colors. Net $1.25.</i></p> +<p>THE VISION SPLENDID</p> +<p>A powerful story in which a man of big ideas and fine ideals wars against +graft and corruption. A most satisfactory love affair terminates the story.</p> +<p class='ralign'><i>12mo, Cloth, Illustrated. Net $1.25.</i></p> +<p>CROOKED TRAILS AND STRAIGHT</p> +<p>A story of Arizona; of swift-riding men and daring outlaws; of a bitter feud +between cattle-men and sheep-herders. The heroine is a most unusual woman +and her love-story reaches a culmination that is fittingly characteristic of the +great free West.</p> +<p class='ralign'><i>12mo, Cloth, Illustrated. Popular Edition 50 cents.</i></p> +<p>BRAND BLOTTERS</p> +<p>A story of the Cattle Range. This story brings out the turbid life of the +frontier with all its engaging dash and vigor with a charming love interest +running through its 320 pages.</p> +<p class='ralign'><i>12mo, Cloth, Illustrated. Jacket in Colors. Popular Edition 50 cents.</i></p> +<p>"MAVERICKS"</p> +<p>A tale of the western frontier, where the "rustler," whose depredations are +so keenly resented by the early settlers of the range, abounds. One of the +sweetest love stories ever told.</p> +<p class='ralign'><i>12mo, Cloth, Illustrated. Popular Edition, 50 cents.</i></p> +<p>A TEXAS RANGER</p> +<p>How a member of the most dauntless border police force carried law into +the mesquit, saved the life of an innocent man after a series of thrilling adventures, +followed a fugitive to Wyoming, and then passed through deadly peril +to ultimate happiness.</p> +<p class='ralign'><i>12mo, Cloth, Illustrated. Popular Edition, 50 cents.</i></p> +<p>WYOMING</p> +<p>In this vivid story of the outdoor West the author has captured the breezy +charm of "cattleland," and brings out the turbid life of the frontier with all +its engaging dash and vigor.</p> +<p class='ralign'><i>12mo, Cloth, Illustrated. Popular Edition, 50 cents.</i></p> +<p>RIDGWAY OF MONTANA</p> +<p>The scene is laid in the mining centers of Montana, where politics and mining +industries are the religion of the country. The political contest, the love +scene, and the fine character drawing give this story great strength and charm.</p> +<p class='ralign'><i>12mo, Cloth, Illustrated. Popular Edition, 50 cents.</i></p> +<p>BUCKY O'CONNOR</p> +<p>Every chapter teems with wholesome, stirring adventures, replete with the +dashing spirit of the border, told with dramatic dash and absorbing fascination +of style and plot.</p> +<p class='ralign'><i>12mo, Cloth, Illustrated. Popular Edition, 50 cents.</i></p> +<hr class='pb' /> + +<p class='tp' style='font-size:2.0em;margin-bottom:10px;'>TRAFFIC IN SOULS</p> + +<p class='tp' style='margin-bottom:20px;'>Novelized from the Great Photo-Play<br />By<br />EUSTACE HALE BALL</p> + +<p>TRAFFIC IN SOULS is a powerful study, in fiction garb, +of the vice conditions of New York and their cure. The +facts upon which it is based were compiled from the +John D. Rockefeller, Jr., White Slave Report, and other +documents of that nature, including Charles S. Whitman's, +District-Attorney of New York.</p> + +<p>The story tells of the active fight of a conscientious policeman, +Officer 4434, Bobbie Burke, to thwart the evil machinations +of a gang of organized traffickers. His personal interest +is suddenly doubled by the abduction of the young sister +of his fiancée, Mary Barton. Burke, assisted by Mary, tracks +the evil doers. After a sensational series of fights mixed +with thrilling detective work, many women, including the +young sister, are saved. The operations of the gangsters, in +securing victims from the emigrant ships, the railroad stations +and the working classes are shown in a manner treated +delicately, yet imbued with a powerful moral lesson. The +tender love story of Bobbie and Mary purges the book of the +morbidity which it would otherwise possess. This photo-drama +feature is the only one dealing with White Slavery +conditions which has met the unqualified sanction of the +District-Attorney's office, the Board of Censorship and the +other vice crusading societies of New York.</p> + +<p style='text-align:center;font-size:smaller;'>12mo. Cloth.<br /> +Illustrated with unusual photographs of the action of the drama.<br /> +Popular Price, 50 cents net. By Mail, 60 cents.</p> + +<p class='tp' style='font-size:1.2em;'>G. W. Dillingham Co., <i>Publishers</i> New York</p> + +<!-- generated by ppg.rb version: ppg0721 --> +<!-- timestamp: Tue Jul 21 09:06:48 -0600 2009 --> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Faro Nell and Her Friends, by Alfred Henry Lewis + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FARO NELL AND HER FRIENDS *** + +***** This file should be named 29485-h.htm or 29485-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/4/8/29485/ + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Faro Nell and Her Friends + Wolfville Stories + +Author: Alfred Henry Lewis + +Illustrator: W. Herbert Dunton + J. N. Marchand + +Release Date: July 22, 2009 [EBook #29485] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FARO NELL AND HER FRIENDS *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +[Illustration: WE MAKES FOUR TRIPS BACK AND FORTH BETWEEN WOLFVILLE AND +RED DOG, CRACKIN' OFF OUR GOOD OLD '45'S AT IRREG'LAR INTERVALS, FARO +NELL ON HER CALICO PONY AS THE GODDESS OF LIBERTY, BUSTIN' AWAY WITH THE +REST. Frontispiece. p. 170.] + + + + +FARO NELL AND HER FRIENDS + +WOLFVILLE STORIES + +BY + +ALFRED HENRY LEWIS + +AUTHOR OF "WOLFVILLE," "WOLFVILLE DAYS," "WOLFVILLE NIGHTS," "WOLFVILLE +FOLKS," "THE BOSS," "THE SUNSET TRAIL," "THE APACHES OF +NEW YORK," "THE STORY OF PAUL JONES," ETC. + +ILLUSTRATIONS BY + +W. HERBERT DUNTON AND J. N. MARCHAND + +G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY + +PUBLISHERS NEW YORK + + + + +Copyright, 1913, By + +G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY + +Faro Nell and Her Friends + + + + +THIS BOOK + +IS DEDICATED TO + +WILLIAM EUGENE LEWIS + +AS MARKING + +MY APPRECIATION OF + +WHAT QUALITIES PLACE HIM HIGH + +AMONG THE BEST EDITORS + +BEST BROTHERS AND BEST MEN + +I'VE EVER MET + +A. H. L. + + + + +CONTENTS + + CHAPTER PAGE + I DEAD SHOT BAKER 7 + II OLD MAN ENRIGHT'S UNCLE 39 + III CYNTHIANA, PET-NAMED ORIGINAL SIN 61 + IV OLD MONTE, OFFICIAL DRUNKARD 99 + V HOW THE MOCKING BIRD WAS WON 126 + VI THAT WOLFVILLE-RED DOG FOURTH 148 + VII PROPRIETY PRATT, HYPNOTIST 176 + VIII THAT TURNER PERSON 198 + IX RED MIKE 225 + X HOW TUTT SHOT TEXAS THOMPSON 260 + XI THE FUNERAL OF OLD HOLT 295 + XII SPELLING BOOK BEN 320 + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + PAGE + We makes four trips back and forth between Wolfville and Red + Dog, crackin' off our good old '45's at irreg'lar + intervals, Faro Nell on her calico pony as the Goddess of + Liberty, bustin' away with the rest. . . . Frontispiece 170 + We're all discussin' the doin's of this yere road-agent when + Dan gets back from Red-Dog, an' the result is he unloads + his findin's on a dead kyard. 18 + Dead Shot stops short at this hitch in the discussion, by + reason of a bullet from the Lightin' Bug's pistol which + lodges in his lung. 28 + The second evening Old Stallins is with us, Dan Boggs an' + Texas Thompson uplifts his aged sperits with the "Love + Dance of the Catamounts." 42 + "It's you, Oscar, that I want," observes Miss Bark. "I + concloodes, upon sober second thought, to accept your + offer of marriage." 90 + A couple of Enright's riders comes a packin' a live bobcat + into town. 118 + Turkey Track, seein' he's afoot an' thirty miles from his home + ranch pulls his gun an' sticks up the mockin' bird's + buckboard. 138 + We sees the Turner person aboard an' wishes him all kinds of + luck. 222 + "What's the subject?" Peets asks. "That, my friend, is the + 'Linden in October,'" returns Mike, as though he's a + showin' us a picture of Heaven's front gate. 238 + "Him an' Annalinda shore do constitoote a picture. 'Thar's a + pa'r to draw to,' says Nell to Texas, her eyes like brown + diamonds." 280 + Thar's a bombardment which sounds like a battery of gatlings, + the whole punctchooated by a whirlwind of "whoops!" 316 + "Onless girls is barred," declares Faro Nell, from her perch + on the chair "I've a notion to take a hand." 336 + + + + +FARO NELL AND HER FRIENDS + + + + +I + +DEAD SHOT BAKER + + +"Which you never knows Dead Shot Baker?" + +This, from the old cattleman, with a questioning glance my way. + +"No? Well, you shore misses knowin' a man! Still, it ain't none so +strange neither; even Wolfville's acquaintance with Dead Shot's only +what you-all might call casyooal, him not personally lastin' more'n +three months. + +"This yere Dead Shot has a wife. Thar's women you don't want to see +ontil you're tired, an' women you don't want to see ontil you're +rested, an' women you don't want to see no how--don't want to see at +all. This wife of Dead Shot's belongs with the latter bunch. + +"Last evenin' I'm readin' whar one of them philosophic sports asserts +that women, that a-way, is shore the sublimation of the oncertain. +That's how he lays it down; an' he never hedges the bluff for so much +as a single chip. He insists that you can't put a bet on women; that +you can bet on hosses or kyards or 'lections, but not on women--women +bein' too plumb oncertain. As I reads along, I can't he'p feelin' that +somehow this philosophic party must have knowed Dead Shot's wife. + +"The first time we-all ever sees Dead Shot, he comes trackin' into the +Red Light one evenin' jest after the stage rolls up. Bein' it's +encroachin' on second drink time, he sidles up to the bar; an' then, +his manner some diffident an' apol'getic, he says: + +"'Gents, do you-all feel like a little licker, that a-way?' + +"It bein' imp'lite to reefuse, we assembles within strikin' distance +of the bottles Black Jack is slammin' the len'th of the counter, an' +begins spillin' out our forty drops. At this he turns even more +apol'getic. + +"'Which I trusts,' he says, 'that no one'll mind much if I takes +water?' + +"Of course no one minds. Wolfville don't make no speshulty of forcin' +whiskey onto no gent who's disinclined. If they prefers water, we +encourages 'em. + +"'An' for this yere reason,' expounds Boggs, once when he ondertakes +to explain the public attitoode towards water to some inquirin' +tenderfoot--'an' for this partic'lar reason: Arizona is a dry an' arid +clime; an' water drinkers bein' a cur'ous rarity, we admires to keep a +spec'men or two buck-jumpin' about, so's to study their habits.' + +"As we picks up our glasses, Dead Shot sets to introdoocin' himse'f. + +"'My name, gents,' he says, 'is Baker, Abner Baker. The Wells-Fargo +folks sends me down yere from Santa Fe to ride shotgun for 'em.' + +"The name's plenty s'fficient. It's him who goes to a showdown with +them three road agents who lays for the stage over in a spur of the +Black Range back of San Marcial, an' hives the three. That battle +saves the company $200,000; an', they're that pleased with Dead Shot's +industry, they skins the company's bankroll for a bundle of money the +size of a roll of blankets, an' gives it to him by way of reward. +It's the talk of the two territories. + +"While we-all knows Dead Shot when he speaks his name, none of us lets +on. It's ag'inst ettiquette in the southwest to know more of a gent +than what he tells himse'f. + +"'So water's all you samples?' puts in Texas Thompson, as we stands +an' drinks. + +"'It's like this,' explains Dead Shot, appealin' round with his eye. +'You see I can't drink nosepaint none, an' drink successful.' + +"'Shore,' observes Faro Nell, who's takin' her diminyootive toddy +right at Dead Shot's elbow; 'thar's gents so organized that to go +givin' 'em licker is like tryin' to play a harp with a hammer.' + +"That's me,' exclaims Dead Shot; 'that's me, Miss, every time. Give me +a spoonful, an' I deemands a bar'l. After which, thar ain't no se'f +respectin' camp that'll stand for my game.' + +"'I savvys what you means,' says Tutt; 'I reecalls in my own case how, +on the hocks of mebby it's the ninth drink--which this is years an' +years ago, though--I mistakes a dem'crat primary for a Methodist +praise meetin', an' comes ramblin' in an' offers to lead in pra'r. +Which I carries the scars to this day.' + +"'Which is why, Dave,' interjecks Cherokee Hall, in hopes of settin' +Tutt to pitchin' on his p'litical rope, him bein' by nacher a +oncompromisin' reepublican that a-way--'which is why you always holds +dem'crats so low.' + +"'But I don't hold 'em low,' protests Tutt. 'Thar's heaps to be said +for dem'crats, leastwise for the sort that's pesterin' 'round in the +country I hails from.' + +"'What be your dem'crats like, Dave?' Texas urges. 'Which I wants to +see if they're same as the kind I cuts the trail of down about +Laredo.' + +"'Well,' returns Tutt, 'simply hittin' the high places, them dem'crats +by which I'm born surrounded chews tobacco, sw'ars profoosely, drinks +mighty exhaustive, hates niggers, an' some of 'em can read.' + +"'That deescription goes for Laredo, too,' Texas allows. 'This yere +jedge, who gives my wife her divorce that time, an' sets the sheriff +to sellin' up my steers for costs an' al'mony, is a dem'crat. What you +says, Dave, is the merest picture of that joorist.' + +"'I expects my wife'll come rackin' along _poco tiempo,'_ Dead Shot +remarks, after a pause. 'I'm yere as advance gyard to sling things +into shape.' + +"It's as good as a toone of music to see how softly his face lights +up. He's as big an' wide an' thick an' strong as Boggs, an' yet it's +plain as paint that this yere wife of his, whoever she is, can jest +nacherally make curl-papers of him. + +"That mention of a wife as usual sets Texas to growlin'. + +"'Thar you be, Dan!' I overhears him whisper, same as if he's been +ill-treated; 'the instant this Dead-Shot says "Water" I'm onto it that +he's a married man. Water an' matrimony goes hand in hand.' + +"'Now I don't see why none?' retorts Boggs. + +"'Because water's weakenin'. Feed a sport on water, an' it's a cinch +he falls a prey to the first female who ropes at him.' + +"'Thar's Dave,' Boggs argyoos, noddin' towards Tutt. 'Ain't he +drinkin' that time he weds Tucson Jennie?' + +"'Dave's the exception. Also, you-all remembers them circumstances, +Dan. Dave don't marry Jennie; Jennie simply ups an' has him.' + +"'All the same,' contends Boggs, 'I don't regyard Dead Shot's sobriety +as no drawback. Thar's lots of folks who's cap'ble of bein' sober an' +sociable at one an' the same time.' + +"These yere low-voiced wranglin's between Texas an' Boggs is off to +one side. Meanwhile, the gen'ral confab proceeds. + +"'You ain't been long hooked up?' says Doc Peets, addressin' Dead +Shot. + +"'About a year. She's in the stage that time I has the trouble with +them hold-ups in the Black Range, an' she allows she likes my style.' + +"'We-all hears about that Black Range battle,' remarks Enright. + +"'It's a mighty lucky play for me,' says Dead Shot; 'I don't ree'lize +it while I'm workin' my winchester, but I'm winnin' a angel all the +time. That's on the level, gents! I never puts my arm 'round her yet, +but what I go feelin' for wings.' + +"'Don't this make you sick?' Texas growls to Boggs. + +"'No, it don't,' Boggs replies. 'On the contrary, I'm teched.' + +"'Gents,' goes on Dead Shot, an' I sees his mustache tremble that +a-way; 'I don't mind confessin' she's that angelic I'm half afraid to +marry her. I ain't fine enough! It's like weddin' gunny-sack to +silk--me makin' her my wife. Which I shore has to think an' argyoo +with myse'f a whole lot, before I gets the courage. Ain't you-all ever +noticed'--yere he appeals 'round to Peets--'that every time you meets +up with a angel, thar's always some smoke-begrimed an' sin-encrusted +son of Satan workin' double-turn to support her?' + +"Peets nods. + +"'Shore! Well, it's sech reflections which final gives me the +reequired sand. An' so, one evenin' up in Albuquerque, we prances over +before a padre an' we're married. You bet, it's like a vision.' + +"'Any papooses?' asks Tutt, plumb pompous. + +"'None as yet,' confesses Dead Shot, lookin' abashed. + +"'Which I've nacherally got one,' an' yere Tutt swells. 'You can put +your case _peso_ on it he's the real thing, too.' + +"'Little Enright Peets is certainly a fine child,' remarks Nell. +'Dave, you're shore licensed to be proud of him.' + +"'That's whatever,' adds Boggs. 'Little Enright Peets is nothin' short +of bein' the No'th Star of all hoomanity!' + +"Mebby a week passes, an' one mornin' Dead Shot goes squanderin' over +to Tucson to bring his wife. An' nacherally we're on what they calls +in St. Looey the 'quee vee' to see her. At that, we-all don't crowd +'round permiscus when the stage arrives, an' we avoids everything +which borders on mob voylence. + +"Dead Shot hits the street, lookin' that happy it's like he's in a +dream, an' then goes feelin' about, soft an' solic'tous, inside. At +last he lifts her out, an' stands thar holdin' her in his arms. She's +shore beautiful; only she ain't no bigger 'n a ten year old youngone. +Yellow-ha'red an' bloo-eyed, she makes you think of these yere china +ornaments that's regyarded artistic by the Dutch. + +"They're certainly a contrast--him big as a house, her as small an' +pretty as a doll! An' you should see that enamored Dead Shot look at +her!--long an' deep, like a man drinkin'! Son, sometimes I fears +women, that a-way, misses all knowledge of how much they're loved. + +"'She ain't sick,' says Dead Shot, speakin' gen'ral; 'only she twists +her off ankle gettin' out at the last station.' + +"Dead Shot heads for the little 'dobe he's fitted up, packin' his +bloo-eyed doll in his arms. What's our impressions? No gent who signs +the books as sech'll say anything ag'in a lady; but between us, thar's +a sooperior wrinklin' of the little tipped-up nose, an' a cold feel to +them bloo eyes, which don't leave us plumb enthoosiastic. + +"'It's like this,' volunteers Enright, who stacks in to explain +things. 'Every gent's got his ideal; an' this yere wife of his is Dead +Shot's ideal.' + +"'Whatever's an ideal, Doc?' asks Boggs, who's always romancin' about +for information. + +"'Which an ideal, Dan,' Peets replies, 'is the partic'lar gold brick +you're tryin' to buy.' + +"At the time Dead Shot's standin' thar with his fam'ly in his arms, +Nell comes out on the Red Light steps to take a peek. Also, Missis +Rucker an' Tucson Jennie is hoverin' about all sim'lar. After Dead +Shot an' his bride has faded into their 'dobe, them three experts +holds a energetic consultation in the street. Of course, none of us +has the hardihood to go j'inin' in their deelib'rations, but from +what's said later we gets a slant at their concloosions. + +"'Dead Shot's a mighty sight too good for her,' is how Missis Rucker +gives jedgment. 'It's peltin' pigs with pearls for him to go lovin' +her like he does.' + +"Shore; bein' ladies that-a-way, Missis Rucker, Tucson Jennie an' Faro +Nell all visits Dead Shot's wife. But the feelin' is that they finds +her some stuck up an' haughty. This yere notion is upheld by Nell +callin' her a 'minx,' while Tucson Jennie alloodes to her as a 'cat' +on two sep'rate occasions. + +"Dead Shot an' his doll-bride, in the beginnin', seems to be gettin' +along all right. It's only when thar's money goin' over, that Dead +Shot has to buckle on his guns an' ride out with the stage. This gives +him lots of time to hang 'round, an' worship her. Which I'm yere to +reemark that if ever a white man sets up an idol, that a-way, an' says +his pra'rs to it, that gent's Dead Shot. Thar's nothin' to it; prick +her finger, an' you pierce his heart. + +"'It'd be beautiful if it wasn't awful,' says Faro Nell. + +"It ain't a month when events lifts up their p'isin heads, which goes +to jestify them comments of Nell's. Thar's been a White House shift +back in Washington, an' a new postmaster's sent out. He's a dapper +party, with what Peets calls a 'Van Dyke' beard, an' smells like a +ha'r-dresser's shop. + +"Now if affairs stops thar, we could have stood it; but they don't. I +abhors to say so, but it ain't two weeks before Dead Shot's wife's +makin' onmistak'ble eyes at that postmaster. Them times when Dead +Shot's dooties has took him to the other end of the trail, she's over +to the post office constant. None of us says anything, not even to +ourselves; but when it gets to whar she shoves you away from the +letter place, an' begins talkin' milk and honey to him right under +your nose, onless you're as blind as steeple bats, an' as deaf as the +adder of scriptoore which stoppeth her y'ear, you're shore bound to do +some thinkin'. + +[Illustration: WE'RE ALL DISCUSSIN' THE DOIN'S OF THIS YERE ROAD-AGENT +WHEN DAN GETS BACK FROM RED-DOG, AN' THE RESULT IS HE UNLOADS HIS +FINDIN'S ON A DEAD KYARD. p. 18.] + +"'Which if ever a gov'ment offishul,' exclaims Texas, as he comes +t'arin' into the Red Light one evenin', deemandin' drinks--'which if +ever a gov'ment offishul goes organizin' his own fooneral that a-way, +it's this yere deeboshed postmaster next door!' + +"Thar's nothin' said, but we-all knows what's on Texas's mind. That +wife of Dead Shot's, for the fo'th time that day, has gone askin' for +letters. + +"'She writes 'em to herse'f,' is the way Missis Rucker lays it down. +'Also, it's doo to the crim'nal besottedness of that egreegious Dead +Shot. The man's shorely love-blind!' + +"'You ain't goin' to t'ar into him for that, be you?' Nell asks, her +tones reproachful. 'Him lovin' her like he does shore makes a hit with +me. A limit goes in farobank; but my notion is to take the bridle off +when the game's love.' + +"'But all the same he needn't get that lovin' it addles him,' says +Missis Rucker. 'In a way, it's Dead Shot's sole fault, her actin' +like she does. Instead of keepin' them Mexicans to do her work, Dead +Shot ought to make her go surgin' round, an' care for her house +herse'f. Thar ain't nobody needs steady employment more'n a woman. +You-all savvys where it says that Satan finds some mischief still for +idle hands to do? Which you bet that bluff means women--an' +postmasters--every time.' + +"Missis Rucker continues along sim'lar lines, mighty inflexible, for +quite a spell. She concloodes by sayin': + +"'You keep a woman walsin' round a cook-stove, or wrastlin' a washtub, +or jugglin' pots an' skillets, same as them sleight-of-hand folks at +the Bird Cage Op'ry House, an' she won't be so free to primp an' preen +an' look at herse'f in the glass, an' go gaddin' after letters which +she herse'f's done writ.' + +"We-all can't he'p hearin' this yere, seen' we're settin' round the O. +K. dinin' table feedin' at the time; but we stubbornly refooses to be +drawed into any views, Enright settin' us the example. That sagacious +old warchief merely reaches for the salt-hoss, an' never yeeps; +wharupon we maintains ourselves stoodiously yeepless likewise. + +"Things goes on swingin' an' rattlin', an' the open-air flirtations +which Dead Shot's wife keeps up with that outcast of a postmaster's +enough to give you a chill. We sets thar, powerless, expectin' a +killin' every minute. An' all the time, like his eyes has took a +layoff, Dead Shot wanders to an' fro, boastin' an' braggin' in the +mushiest way about his wife. Moreover--an' this trenches on +eediotcy--he goes out of his path to make a pard of the postmaster, +an' has that deebauchee over to his shack evenin's. + +"Dead Shot even begins publicly singin' the praises of this office +holder. + +"'Which it's this a-way,' he says; 'what with him bein' book-read an' +a sport who's seen foreign lands, he's company for my wife. She +herse'f's eddicated to a feather-edge; an', nacherally, that's what +gives 'em so much in common.' + +"Thar's all the same a note in Dead Shot's voice that's like the echo +of a groan. It looks, too, as though it sets fire to Texas, who jumps +up as if he's stung by a trant'ler. + +"'Come,' he says, grabbin' Boggs by the shoulder. + +"Texas has Boggs drug half-way to the door, before Enright can head +'em off. + +"'Whar to?' demands Enright; an' then adds, 'don't you-all boys go +nigh that post office.' + +"'All right,' says Texas final, but gulpin' a little; 'since it's you +who says so, Sam, we won't. Me an' Dan yere'll merely take a little +_passear_ as far as the graveyard, by way of reecoverin' our sperits +an' to get the air. I'll shore blow up if obleeged to listen to that +Dead Shot any longer.' + +"'I sees it in his eye,' Enright explains in a low tone to Peets, as +he resoomes his cha'r; 'Texas is simply goin' to bend his gun over +that letter man's head.' + +"'How often has I told you, Dan,' asks Texas, after they gets headed +for Boot Hill, an' Texas has regained his aplomb, 'that women is a +brace game?' + +"'Not all women,' Boggs objects; 'thar's Nell.' + +"'Shore; Nell!' Texas consents. 'Sech as her has all of the honor an' +honesty of a Colt's-45. A gent can rely on the Nellie brand, same as +he can on his guns. But Nellie's one in one thousand. Them other nine +hundred an' ninety-nine'll deal you the odd-kyard, Dan, every time.' + +"When Texas an' Boggs arrives at Boot Hill, Texas goes seelectin' +about, same as if he's searchin' out a site for a grave. At last he +finds a place whar thar's nothin' but mesquite, soapweed an' rocks, +it's that ornery: + +"'Yere's whar we plants him,' says Texas; 'off yere, by himse'f, like +as if he's so much carrion.' + +"'Who you talkin' about?' asks Boggs, some amazed. + +"'Who?' repeats Texas; 'whoever but that postmaster? Dead Shot's got +to get him soon or late. An' followin' the obsequies, thar ain't goin' +to be no night gyards neither. Which if them coyotes wants to dig him +up, they're welcome. It's their lookout, not mine; an' I ain't got no +love for coyotes no how.' + +"'Thar ain't no coyote in Cochise County who's sunk that low he'll eat +him,' says Boggs. + +"Like every other outfit, Wolfville sees its hours of sunshine an' its +hours of gloom, its lights an' its shadders. But I'm yere to state +that it never suffers through no more nerve-rackin' eepock than that +which it puts in about Dead Shot an' his wife. She don't bother us so +much as him. It's Dead Shot himse'f, praisin' up the postmaster an' +paintin' the sun-kissed virchoose of his wife, which keeps the sweat +a-pourin' down the commoonal face. An' all that's left us is to stand +pat, an' wait for the finish! + +"One day the Wells-Fargo people sends Dead Shot to Santa Fe to take a +money box over to Taos. Two days later, Dead Shot's wife finds she's +got to go visit Tucson. Likewise, the postmaster allows he's been +ordered to Wilcox, to straighten out some deepartmental kinks. Which +we certainly sets thar an' looks at each other!--the play's that +rank. + +"The postmaster an' Dead Shot's wife goes rumblin' out on the same +stage. Monte starts to tell us what happens when he returns, but the +old profligate don't get far. + +"'Gents,' he says, 'that last trip, when Dead Shot's----' + +"'Shet up,' roars Enright, an' Monte shore shets up. + +"It comes plenty close to killin' the mis'rable old dipsomaniac at +that. He swells an' he swells, with that pent-up information inside +of him, ontil he looks like a dissipated toad. But sech is his awe of +Enright, he never dar's opens his clamshell. + +"It's a week before Dead Shot's wife gets back, an' the postmaster +don't show up till four days more. Then Dead Shot himse'f comes +trackin' in. + +"Faro Nell, who's eyes is plumb keen that a-way, lets on to Cherokee +private that Dead Shot looks sorrow-ridden. But I don't know! Dead +Shot's nacherally grave, havin' no humor. A gent who constant goes +messin' round with road agents, shootin' an' bein' shot at, ain't apt +to effervesce. Nell sticks to it, jest the same, that he's onder a +cloud. + +"Dead Shot continyoos to play his old system, an' cavorts 'round plumb +friendly with the postmaster, an' goes teeterin' yere an' thar tellin' +what a boon from heaven on high his wife is, same as former. + +"Faro Nell shakes her head when Cherokee mentions this last: + +"'That's his throw-off,' she says. + +"One evenin' Dead Shot comes trailin' into the Red Light, an' strolls +over to whar Cherokee's dealin' bank. + +"'What's the limit?' he asks. + +"At this, we-all looks up a whole lot. It's the first time ever Dead +Shot talks of puttin' down a bet. + +"Cherokee's face is like a mask, the face of the thorough-paced kyard +sharp. He shows no more astonishment than if Dead Shot's been settin' +in ag'inst his game every evenin' for a month. + +"'One hundred an' two hundred,' says Cherokee. + +"_'Bueno!'_ an' Dead Shot lays down two one-hundred dollar bills +between the king and queen. + +"Thar's two turns. The third the kyards falls 'ten-king,' an' Nell, +from her place on the lookout's stool, shoves over two hundred dollars +in bloo checks. Thar they are, with the two one-hundred dollar bills, +between the king an' queen. + +"'Does it go as it lays?' asks Dead Shot, it bein' double the limit. + +"'It goes,' says Cherokee, never movin' a muscle. + +"One turn, an' the kyards falls 'trey-queen.' Nell shoves four hundred +across to match up with Dead Shot's four hundred. + +"'An' now?' Dead Shot asks. + +"'I'll turn for it,' Cherokee responds. + +"It's yere that Dead Shot's luck goes back on him. The turn comes +'queen-jack,' an' Nell rakes down the eight hundred. + +"Dead Shot's hand goes to the butt of his gun. + +"'I've been robbed,' he growls; 'thar's fifty-three kyards in that +deck.' + +"Cherokee's on his feet, his eyes like two steel p'ints, gun half +drawed. But Nell's as quick. Her hand's on Cherokee's, an' she keeps +his gun whar it belongs. + +"'Steady!' she says; 'can't you see he's only coaxin' you to bump him +off?' Then, with her face full on Dead Shot, she continyoos: 'It won't +do, Dead Shot; it won't do none! You-all can't get it handed to you +yere! You're in the wrong shop; you-all ought to try next door!' An' +Nell p'ints with her little thumb through the wall to the post +office. + +"Dead Shot stands thar the color of seegyar ashes, while Cherokee +settles ca'mly back in his cha'r. Cherokee's face is as bar' of +expression as a blank piece of paper, as he runs his eye along the +lay-out, makin' ready for the next turn. Thar's mebby a dozen of us +playin', but not a word is spoke. Everyone is onto Dead Shot's little +game, the moment Nell begins to talk. + +"Matters seems to hang on centers, ontil Nell stretches across an' +lays her baby hand on Dead Shot's: + +"'Thar ain't a soul in sight,' she says, mighty soft an' good, 'but +what's your friend, Dead Shot.' + +"Dead Shot, pale as a candle, wheels toward the door. + +"'Pore Dead Shot!' murmurs Nell, the tears in her eyes, to that extent +she has to ask Boggs to take her place as lookout. + +"Four hours goes by, an' thar's the poundin' of a pony's hoofs, an' +the creak of saddle-leathers, out in front. It's the Red Dog chief, +who's come lookin' for Enright. + +"They confabs a minute or two at a table to the r'ar, an' then Enright +calls Peets over. + +"'Dead Shot's gone an' got himse'f downed,' he says. + +[Illustration: DEAD SHOT STOPS SHORT AT THIS HITCH IN THE DISCUSSION, BY +REASON OF A BULLET FROM THE LIGHTIN' BUG'S PISTOL WHICH LODGES IN HIS +LUNG. p. 29.] + +"'It's on the squar' gents,' explains the Red Dog chief; 'Dead Shot'll +say so himself. He jest nacherally comes huntin' it.' + +"It looks like Dead Shot, after that failure with Cherokee in the Red +Light, p'ints across for Red Dog. He searches out a party who's called +the Lightnin' Bug, on account of the spontaneous character of his +six-shooter. Dead Shot finds the Lightnin' Bug talkin' with two fellow +gents. He listens awhile, an' then takes charge of the conversation. + +"'Bug,' he says, raisin' his voice like it's a challenge--'Bug, only +I'm afraid folks'll string you up a whole lot, I'd say it's you who +stood up the stage last week in Apache Canyon. Also'--an' yere Dead +Shot takes to gropin' about in his jeans, same as if he's feelin' for +a knife--'it's mighty customary with me, on occasions sech as this, to +cut off the y'ears of----' + +"Dead Shot stops short, by reason of a bullet from the Bug's pistol +which lodges in his lungs. + +"When Peets an' Enright finds him, he's spread out on the Red Dog +chief's blankets, coughin' blood, with the sorrow-stricken Bug +proppin' him up one moment to drink water, an' sheddin' tears over him +the next, alternate. + +"The Red Dog chief leads out the weepin' Bug, who's lamentin' mighty +grievous, an' leaves Enright an' Peets with Dead Shot. + +"'It's all right, gents,' whispers Dead Shot; 'I comes lookin' for it, +an' I gets it. Likewise, she ain't to blame; it's me. I oughtn't to +have married her that time--she only a girl, an' me a full-growed man +who should 'av had sense for both.' + +"'That's no lie,' says Peets, an' Dead Shot gives him a grateful +look. + +"'No,' he goes on, 'she's too fine, too high--I wasn't her breed. An' +I ought to have seen it.' Yere he has a tussle to hang on. + +"Peets pours him out some whiskey. + +"'It's licker, ain't it?' Dead Shot gasps, sniffin' the glass. 'I'm +for water, Doc, licker makin' me that ornery.' + +"'Down with it,' urges Peets. 'Which, if I'm a jedge, you'll pack in +long before you're due to start anything extra serious, even if you +drinkt a gallon.' + +"'Shore!' agrees Dead Shot, as though the idee brings him relief. 'For +a moment it slips my mind about me bein' plugged. But as I'm sayin', +gents, don't blame her. An' don't blame him. I has my chance, an' has +it all framed up, too, when I crosses up with 'em recent over in +Tucson, to kill 'em both. But I can't do it, gents. The six-shooter at +sech a time's played out. That's straight; it don't fill the bill; it +ain't adequate, that a-way. So all I can do is feel sorry for 'em, an' +never let 'em know I knows. For, after all, it ain't their fault, it's +mine. You sports see that, don't you? She's never meant for me, bein' +too fine; an', me a man, I ought to have knowed.' + +"Dead Shot ceases talkin', an' Enright glances at Peets. Peets shakes +his head plenty sorrowful. + +"'Go on,' he says to Dead Shot; 'you-all wants us to do--what?' + +"'Thar you be!' an' at the sound of Peets' voice Dead Shot's mind +comes creepin' back to camp. 'She'll be happy with him--they havin' so +much in common--an' him an' her bein' eddicated that a-way--an' him +havin' traveled a whole lot! An' this yere's what I wants, gents. I +wants you-all, as a kindness to me an' in a friendly way--seein' I +can't stay none to look-out the play myse'f--to promise to sort o' +supervise round an' put them nuptials over right. I takes time by the +forelock an' sends to Tucson for a sky-pilot back two days ago. Bar +accidents, he'll be in camp by to-morry. He can work in at the +funeral, too, an' make it a whipsaw.' + +"Dead Shot turns his eyes on Enright. It's always so about our old +chief; every party who's in trouble heads for him like a coyote for a +camp fire. + +"'You'll shore see that he marries her?--Promise!' + +"Thar's a quaver in Dead Shot's voice, Peets tells me, that's like a +pra'r. + +"'Thar's my hand, Dead Shot,' says Enright, who's chokin' a little. +'So far as the letter man's concerned, it'll be the altar or the +windmill, Jack Moore an' a lariat or that preacher party you refers +to.' + +"Dead Shot's gettin' mighty weak. After Enright promises he leans back +like he's takin' a rest. He's so still they're beginnin' to figger +he's done cashed in; but all at once he starts up like he's +overlooked some bet, an' has turned back from eternity to tend to it. + +"'About Cherokee an' his box,' he whispers; 'that's a lyin' bluff I +makes. Tell him I don't mean nothin'; I'm only out to draw his fire.' + +"After this Dead Shot only rouses once. His voice ain't more'n a +sigh. + +"'I forgets to tell you,' he says, 'to give her my love. An' you say, +too, that I'm bumped off like snuffin' out a candle--too plumb quick +for her to get yere. An' don't blame her, gents; it's not her fault, +it's mine.' + +"It's the week after the fooneral. The postmaster's still in town, +partly by nacheral preference, partly because Enright notifies Jack +Moore to ride herd on him, an' fill him as full of lead as a bag of +bullets in event he ondertakes to go stampedin' off. + +"In the Red Light the seventh evenin' Enright rounds up Peets. + +"'Doc,' he says, 'a month would be more respect'ble, but this yere's +beginnin' to tell on me.' + +"'Besides,' Peets chips in, by way of he'pin' Enright out, 'that +preacher sharp corraled over to Missis Rucker's is gettin' restless. +Onless we side-lines or puts hobbles on that divine we-all can't +expect to go holdin' him much longer.' + +"Enright leads the way to the r'ar wareroom of the Noo York store, +which bein' whar the stranglers holds their meetin's is Wolfville's +hall of jestice. After licker is brought Enright sends Jack Moore for +the postmaster, who comes in lookin' plenty white. Missis Rucker +brings over the divine; an' next Dead Shot's widow--she's plumb lovely +in black--appears on the arm of Peets, who goes in person. + +"Thar's a question in the widow's eye, like she don't onderstand. + +"'Roll your game,' says Enright to the preacher sharp. + +"It's yere an' now Dead Shot's widow fully b'ars out that philos'pher +who announces so plumb cold, that a-way, that women's the sublimation +of the onexpected. Jack Moore's jest beginnin' to manoover that +recreant public servant into p'sition on the widow's left hand, so's +he can be married to the best advantage, an' the preacher sharp's +gettin' out an' openin' his book of rooles, when the widow draws +back. + +"P'intin' at the bridegroom postmaster, same as if he's a stingin' +lizard, she addresses Enright. + +"'Whatever's the meanin' of this?' + +"'Merely the croode preelim'naries, Ma'am,' Enright explains, 'to what +we-all trusts will prove a fa'rly deesir'ble weddin'.' + +"'Me marry him?' an' the onmitigated scorn that relict exhibits, to +say nothin' of her tone of voice, shore makes the postmaster +bridegroom feel chagrined. + +"'You'll pardon us, Ma'am,' returns Enright, soft an' depreecatory, +tryin' to get her feelin's bedded down, 'which you'll shore pardon us +if in our dullness we misreads your sentiments. You see, the notion +gets somehow proned into us that you wants this party. Which if we +makes a mistake, by way of repa'rin' that error, let me say that if +thar's any one else in sight whom you preefers, an' who's s'fficiently +single an' yoothful to render him el'gible for wedlock,'--yere Enright +takes in Boggs an' Texas with his gaze, wharat Texas grows as +green-eyed as a cornered bobcat--'he's yours, Ma'am, on your p'intin' +him out.' + +"'Which I don't want to marry no one,' cries the widow, commencin' to +sob. 'An' as for marryin' him speshul'--yere she glances at the +bridegroom postmaster in sech a hot an' drastic way he's left +shrivellin' in his own shame--'I'd sooner live an' die the widow of +Dead Shot Abner Baker than be the wife of a cornfield full of sech.' + +"Everybody stares, an' Enright takes a modicum of Old Jordan. + +"'You don't deeserve this none,' he says at last, turnin' to the +postmaster bridegroom. 'Onder the circumstances, however, thar's +nothin' left for me to do as cha'rman but deeclar' this yere weddin' a +misdeal.' + +"Texas is plumb disgusted. + +"'Don't some folks have nigger luck, Dan?' he says. + +"Later, after thinkin' things up an' down in his mind, Texas takes +ombrage at Enright's invitin' Dead Shot's widow to look him an' Boggs +over that a-way, an' take her pick. + +"'Which sech plays don't stand ace-high with me, Sam,' Texas +says--'you tryin' to auction me off like you does. Even a stranger, +with a half-way hooman heart, after hearin' my story would say that I +already suffers enough. An' yet you, who calls yourse'f my friend, +does all that lays in your callous power to thrust me back into +torment.' + +"'Texas,' replies Enright, like he's bore about all he can, 'you +shorely worries me with your conceit. If you-all won't take my word, +then go take a good hard look at yourse'f in the glass. Thar's never +the slightest risk, as everybody but you yourse'f sees plainly, of +that lady or any other lady takin' you.' + +"'You thinks not?' asks Texas, plenty incensed. + +"'Which I _knows_ not. No lady's lot ain't quite that desp'rate.' + +"'Well,' returns Texas, after a pause, his face expressin' his +soreness, 'I'm yere to say, Sam, I don't agree with you, none +whatever. You forgets that I've already been took in wedlock bonds by +one lady. An' while that Laredo wife of mine is hard an' crooel, all +Texas knows she's plumb partic'lar. Also, no one ever yet comes +pirootin' up the trail who doubts her taste.' + +"It's the evenin' before the preacher sharp goes back to Tucson, when +Enright edges him off into a corner of the O. K. dinin' room. + +"'Parson,' says Enright, lookin' like he's a heap bothered about +somethin'--'parson, in addition to your little game as a preacher that +a-way, you don't happen to be up none on table-tippin' or sperit +rappin', same as them mediums, do you?' + +"'Which I shore don't,' replies the preacher sharp, archin' his neck, +indignant. 'Likewise, I regyards them cer'monials you alloodes to as +satantic in their or'gin.' + +"'Doubtless, parson,' returns Enright, some disapp'inted, 'doubtless. +Still, if you-all but counts the rings on my horns, as givin' some +impression of the years I've lived an' what troubles I've probably +gone through, you'll onderstand that I ain't takin' Satan no more +serious than a empty six-shooter. But the mere trooth is, parson, I'm +pestered by them promises I makes deeceased. Which I'd give a yellow +stack to get put next to Dead Shot's sperit long enough to explain +concernin' them nuptials, an' make cl'ar jest how me an' the Doc falls +down.'" + + + + +II + +OLD MAN ENRIGHT'S UNCLE + + +"Which you'll excoose me," and the old cattleman replaced his glass +upon the table with a decisive click, "if I fails to j'ine you in them +sent'ments. For myse'f, I approves onreserved of both lies an' liars. +Also, that reemark goes double when it comes to public liars tellin' +public lies. Which, however se'fish it may sound, I prefers this +gov'ment to last my time; an' it's my idee that if them statesmen back +at Washington ever takes a hour off from their tax-eatin' an' tells +the people the trooth, the whole trooth an' nothin' but the trooth of +their affairs, said people'll be down on the sityooation instanter, +like a weasel on a nest of field mice, an' wipe the face of nacher +free an' cl'ar of these United States." + +The above was drawn forth by my condemnatory comments on the published +speech of a Senator, wherein the truth was as a grain of wheat in a +bushel of mendacious chaff. + +"Shore," continued the old gentleman, with the manner of one who +delivers final judgment, "lies is not only to be applauded, but +fostered. They're the angle-irons an' corner-braces that keeps plumb +the social fabric, wantin' which the whole frame-work of soci'ty would +go leanin' sideways, same as that Eyetalian tower you shows me the +picture of the other day. Why, if everybody in the world was to go +tellin' the trooth for the next hour ninety-nine folks in every +hundred would be obleeged to put in the rest of their lives hidin' +out. + +"Do I myse'f ever lie? + +"Frequent an' plumb cheerful. I bases life on the rooles laid down by +that sharp who advises folks to do unto others as others does unto +them, an' beat 'em to it. Believin', tharfore, in handin' a gent his +own system, I makes it my onbreakable practice to allers lie to liars. +Then, ag'in, whenever some impert'nent prairie dog takes to rummagin' +'round with queries to find out my deesigns, I onflaggingly fills him +to the brim with all forms of misleadin' mendac'ty, an' casts every +fictional obstruction in his path that's calc'lated to get between +his heels an' trip him up. I shore do admire to stand all sech +inquirin' mavericks on their heads, an' partic'ler if they're plottin' +ag'in me. + +"An' why not? A party that a-way, as I some time ago instructs you, +ain't got no more right to search my head than to search my warbags, +an' a gent who may lock a door may lie. Which, if you'll go off by +yourse'f an' think this yere over, you'll see that it's so, an' so +with a double cinch. + +"Thar's statements, too, which, speakin' technical, might be regyarded +as lyin' which don't in jestice class onder no sech head. For +spec'men, when Dick Wooten, upon me askin' him how long he's been +inhabitin' the Raton Pass, p'ints to the Spanish Peaks an' says, 'You +see them em'nences? Well, when I pitches camp in this yere gully them +mountings was two holes in the ground,' I don't feel like he's lyin'. +I merely remembers that he steals the bluff from old Jim Bridger, +grins an' lets it go at that. + +"Likewise, I'm sim'larly onaffected towards that amiable multitoode +who simply lies to entertain. These yere latter sports in their +preevar'cations is public ben'factors. You-all can spread yourse'f +out in the ca'm shadow of their yarns, same as if it's the shade of a +tree, an' find tharin reefreshment an' reepose. + +"While the most onimag'native of us, from Peets to Cherokee, ain't +none puny as conversationists, the biggest liar, ondoubted, who ever +comes romancin' into Wolfville is Enright's uncle, who visits him that +time. Back in Tennessee a passel of scientists makes what this yere +relative of Enright's deescribes as a 'Theological Survey' of some +waste land he has on Gingham Mountain, an' finds coal. An' after that +he's rich. Thus, in his old age, but chipper as a coopful of catbirds, +he comes rackin' into town, allowin' he'll take a last look at his +nephy, Sam, before he cashes in. + +"His name is Stallins, bein' he's kin to Enright on his mother's side, +an' since thar's nine ahead of him--Enright's mother bein' among the +first--an' he don't come along as a infant ontil the heel of the +domestic hunt that a-way, he's only got it on Enright by ten years in +the matter of age. + +[Illustration: THE SECOND EVENING OLD STALLINS IS WITH US, DAN BOGGS AN' +TEXAS THOMPSON UPLIFTS HIS AGED SPERITS WITH THE "LOVE DANCE OF THE +CATAMOUNTS." p. 43.] + +"No, I shore shouldn't hes'tate none to mention him as a top-sawyer +among liars, the same bein' his constant boast an' brag. He accepts +the term as embodyin' a compliment, an' the quick way to get his +bristles up is to su'gest that his genius for mendac'ty is beginnin' +to bog down. + +"For all that, Enright imparts to me, private, that the old gent as a +liar ain't a marker to his former se'f. + +"'You've heard tell,' Enright says, 'of neighborhood liars, an' +township liars, an' county liars; an' mebby even of liars whose fame +as sech might fill the frontiers of a state. Take my uncle, say forty +years ago, an' give him the right allowance of baldface whiskey, an' +the coast-to-coast expansiveness of them fictions he tosses off shore +entitles him to the name of champion of the nation. Compar'd to him, +Ananias is but a ambitious amatoor.' + +"It's the second evenin' old Stallins is with us, an' Enright takes +him over to Hamilton's Dance Hall, whar Boggs an' Texas--by partic'lar +reequest--uplifts his aged sperits with that y'ear-splittin' an' +toomultuous minyooet, the 'Love Dance of the Catamounts.' Which the +exh'bition sets his mem'ry to millin', an' when we gets back to the +Red Light he breaks out remin'scent. + +"'Sammy,' he says to Enright, 'you was old enough to rec'llect when I +has that location over on the upper Hawgthief? Gents,' he goes on, +turnin' to us, 'it's a six-forty, an'--side hill, swamp an' bottom--as +good a section as any to be crossed up with between the Painted Post +an' the 'Possum Trot. It's that "Love Dance of the Catamounts" which +brings it to my mind, since it's then an' thar, by virchoo of a +catamount, I wins my Sarah Ann. + +"'She's shore the star-eyed Venus of the Cumberland, is my Sarah Ann. +Her ha'r, black as paint, is as thick as a pony's mane; her lips is +the color of pokeberry juice; her cheeks--round an' soft--is as cl'ar +an' bright an' glowin' as a sunset in Jooly; her teeth is as +milk-white as the inside of a persimmon seed. She's five-foot-eleven +without her mocassins, stands as up an' down as a pine tree, got a arm +on her like the tiller of a scow, an' can heft a full-sized side of +beef an' hang it on the hook. That's fifty years ago. She's back home +on the Hawgthief waitin' for me now, my Sarah Ann is. You'd say she's +as gray as a 'possum, an' as wrinkled as a burnt boot. Mebby so; but +not to me, you bet. She's allers an' ever to me the same endoorin' +hooman sunburst I co'tes an' marries that long time ago.' + +"Old Stallins pauses to reefresh himse'f, an' Texas, who's been +fidgetin' an' frettin' since the first mention of Sarah Ann, goes +whisperin' to Boggs. + +"'Can't some of you-all,' he says, plenty peevish, 'head this yere +mushy old tarrapin off? This outfit knows what I suffers with that +Laredo wife of mine. An' yet it looks like I'm to be tortured constant +with tales of married folks, an' not one hand stretched out to save me +from them reecitals.' + +"'Brace up,' returns Boggs, tryin' to comfort him. 'Thicken your hide +ag'in sech childish feelin's, an' don't be so easy pierced. Besides, I +reckons the worst's over. He's comin' now to them catamounts.' + +"Texas grinds his teeth, an' old Stallins resoomes his adventures. + +"'My Sarah Ann's old pap has his location jest across the Hawgthief +from me. Besides him an' Sarah Ann, thar ain't nobody but the old +woman in the fam'ly, the balance of 'em havin' been swept away in a +freshet. Shore, old man Bender--that's Sarah Ann's pap's name--has +fourteen children once, Sarah Ann, who's oldest, bein' the first +chicken on the domestic roost. But the other thirteen is carried off +one evenin' when, what with the rains an' what with the snow meltin' +back on Gingham Mountain, the Hawgthief gets its back up. Swish comes +a big wave of water, an' you hear me them children goes coughin' an' +kickin' an' splutterin' into the misty beyond. + +"'Which I says thirteen only because that's whar old Bender allers +puts his loss. Zeb Stiles, who lives on the Painted Post, insists that +it's fifteen who gets swept away that time. He allows he counts them +infant Benders two evenin's before, perched along on old Bender's +palin's like pigeons on a limb. Thirteen or fifteen, however, it don't +make no difference much, once they're submerged, that a-way. + +"'Mebby I've been co'tin' my Sarah Ann for goin' on six months, givin' +her b'ar robes an' mink pelts, with now an' then a pa'r of bald eagle +wings to bresh the hearth. Nothin' heart-movin', however, comes off +between us, Sarah Ann keepin' me at arm's len'th an' comportin' +herse'f plumb uppish, as a maiden should. She's right; a likely girl +can't be too conserv'tive techin' what young an' boundin' bucks comes +co'tin' at her house. + +"'Old Bender sort o' likes me in streaks. After he gets bereft of them +thirteen or fifteen offspring he turns morose a whole lot, an' I used +to go 'cross in my dugout an' cheer him up with my lies. + +"'Could I lie? + +"'My nephy, Sammy, thar'll nar'ate how I once lies a full-grown b'ar +to death. The cunnin' varmint takes advantage of me bein' without my +weepons, an' chases me up a tree. I ensconces myse'f in the crotch, +an' when the b'ar starts to climb I hurls down ontrooth after ontrooth +on top of him ontill, beneath a avalanche of falsehood, he's crushed +dead at the base of the tree. Could I lie, you asks? Even folks who +don't like me concedes that I'm the most irresist'ble liar south of +the Ohio river. + +"'While I'm upliftin' the feelin's of old Bender mendacious that +a-way, he likes me; it's only when we gets to kyard-playin' he waxes +sour. He's a master-hand to gamble, old Bender is, an' as shore as I +shows up, followin' a lie or two, he's bound he'll play me seven-up +for a crock of baldface whiskey. Now thar ain't a sport from the Knobs +of old Knox to the Mississippi who could make seed corn off me at +seven-up, an' nacherally I beats old Bender out of the baldface. + +"'With that he'd rave an' t'ar, an' make like he's goin' to jump for +his 8-squar' Hawkins rifle, whar she's hangin' on a pa'r of antlers +over the door; but he'd content himse'f final by orderin' me out of +the shack, sayin' that no sech kyard-sharpin' galoot as me need come +pesterin' 'round allowin' to marry no child of his'n. At sech eepocks, +too, it looks like Sarah Ann sees things through the eyes of her old +man, an' she's more'n common icy. + +"'One day old Bender goes weavin' over to Pineknot, an' starts to +tradin' hosses with Zeb Stiles. They seesaws away for hours, an' old +Bender absorbs about two dollars' worth of licker, still-house rates. +In the finish Zeb does him brown an' does him black on the swap, so it +don't astonish nobody to death when next day he quiles up in his +blankets sick. Marm Bender tries rekiverin' him with yarbs, an' +kumfrey tea, an' sweet gum sa'v. When them rem'dies proves footile she +decides that perhaps a frolic'll fetch him. + +"'It's about second drink time in the afternoon when Marm Bender +starts out Fiddler Abe, givin' notice of the treat. I hears the old +nigger as, mule-back, he goes meanderin' along, singin': + + Thar's a smoke house full of bacon, + An' a barrel full of rum. + For to eat an' drink an' shake a laig + You've only got to come. + +"'As soon as Fiddler Abe starts singin' the girls an' boys begin +comin' out of the woods like red ants out of a burnin' log, headin' +hotfoot for old Bender's. + +"'Do I go? + +"'It ain't a hour after candle lightin' when, with mebby it's a pint +of baldface onder the buckle of my belt, I'm jumpin' higher, shoutin' +louder, an' doin' more to loosen the puncheons in the floor than any +four males of my species who's present at that merry-makin'. It he'ps +old Bender, too, an' inspired by the company an' onder the inflooence +of four or five stiff toddies, he resolves not to let that hoss trade +carry him to a ontimely grave, an' is sittin' up in his blankets, +yellin', "Wake snakes; an' Gin'ral Jackson fit the Injuns!" in happy +accord with the sperit of his times. + +"'Fiddler Abe strikes into the exyooberant strains of "Little Black +Bull Come Down the Mountains," an' I hauls Ten-spot Mollie out of the +gin'ral ruck of calico for a reel. We calls her Ten-spot Mollie +because she's got five freckles on each cheek. All the same, when it +comes to dancin', she's shore a she-steamboat. Every time we swings +she hefts me plumb free of the floor, an' bats my heels ag'in the +rafters ontil both ankles is sprained. + +"'Sarah Ann falls jealous, seem' me an' Ten-spot Mollie thus +pleasantly engaged, an' to get even goes to simperin' an' talkin' +giggle-talk to Mart Jenkins, who's rid in from Rapid Run. Jenks is a +offensive numbskull who's wormed his way into soci'ty by lickin' all +the boys 'round his side of Gingham Mountain. At that, he's merely +tol'rated. + +"'Seein' Sarah Ann philanderin' with Jenks, I lets go of Ten-spot +Mollie, who goes raspin' an' rollin' into a corner some abrupt, an' +sa'nters across to whar they're at. Leanin' over Sarah Ann's +off-shoulder, bein' the one furthest from that onmitigated Jenks, I +says, "Sweetheart, how can you waste time talkin' to this yere hooman +Sahara, whose intellects is that sterile they wouldn't raise +cow-pease?" + +"'This makes Jenks oneasy, an' getting up, he reemarks, "Dick +Stallins, I'll be the all-firedest obleeged to you if you'll attend on +me to the foot of the hollow, an' bring your instrooments." + +"'At this I explains that I ain't got my instrooments with me, havin' +left both rifle an' bowie in the dugout when I paddles over to the +dance. + +"'Jenks makes a insultin' gesture, an' reetorts, "Don't crawl, Dick +Stallins. Borry old Bender's nine-inch bootcher, an' come with me." + +"'To appease him I says I will, an' that I'll j'ine him at the before +named slaughter-ground in the flicker of a lamb's tail. Jenks stalks +off plumb satisfied, while I searches out Ben Hazlett, an' whispers +that Jenks is askin' for him some urgent, an' has gone down the trace +towards the foot of the hollow to look him up. Nacherally, my +diplom'cy in this yere behalf sends Ben cavortin' after Jenks; an' +this relieves me a heap, knowin' that all Jenks wants is a fight, an' +Ben'll do him jest as well as me. + +"'Which them was shorely happy days!' he continyoos, settin' down the +bottle wharwith he's been encouragin' his faculties. 'Troo, every gent +has to sleep with his head in a iron kettle for fear of Injuns, an' a +hundred dollars is bigger'n a cord of wood, but life is plenty +blissful jest the same.' + +"'Was you afraid of this yere Jenks?' asks Boggs. + +"'No more'n if he's a streak of lightnin'. Only, I've got on a new +huntin' shirt, made of green blanket cloth, an' I ain't none strenuous +about havin' that gyarment all slashed up. + +"'To proceed: After I dispatches Ben on the heels of Jenks that a-way +it occurs to me that mebby I'm sort o' tired with the labors of the +evenin', an' I'll find my dugout, ferry myse'f over to my own proper +wickyup, an' hit the hay for a snooze. I'm some hurried to the +concloosion by the way in which eevents begins to accumyoolate in my +immedyit vicin'ty. Bill Wheeler announces without a word of warnin' +that he's a flyin' alligator, besides advancin' the theery that Gene +Hemphill is about as deeserv'dly pop'lar as a abolitionist in South +Caroliny. I suspects that this attitoode of mind on Bill's part is +likely to provoke discussion, which suspicion is confirmed when Gene +knocks Bill down, an' boots him into the dooryard. Once in the open, +after a clout or two, Gene an' Bill goes to a clinch an' the fightin' +begins. + +"'It ain't no time when the circumf'rence of trouble spreads. Bud +Ingalls makes a pass at me pers'nal, an' by way of reeprisal I smashes +a stewpan on him. Bud's head goes through the bottom, like the clown +through them paper hoops in a cirkus, the stewpan fittin' down 'round +his neck same as one of them Elizbethan ruffs. The stewpan ockyoopies +so much of Bud's attention that I gets impatient, an' so, tellin' him +I ain't got no time to wait, I leaves him strugglin' with that +yootensil, an' strolls off down to the Hawgthief whistlin' "Sandy +Land." + +"'It's dark as the inside of a cow, an' somehow I misses the dugout; +but bein' stubborn, an' plumb sot about gettin' home, I wades in an' +begins to swim. The old Hawgthief is bank full, but I'd have made +t'other side all right if it ain't that, as I swims out from onder the +overhangin' branch of a tree, somethin' drops into the water behind +me, an' comes snarlin' an' splashin' an' spittin' along in pursoote. I +don't pay much heed at the jump, but when it claws off my nigh +moccasin, leavin' a inch-deep gash in my heel, I glances back an' +perceives by the two green eyes that I've become an object of +comsoomin' int'rest to a pa'nter, or what you-all out yere calls a +mountain lion, an' we-uns back in Tennessee a catamount.' + +"'But a panther won't swim,' reemonstrates Tutt. + +"'Arizona catamounts won't,' returns old Stallins, 'thar bein' no +rivers to speak of. But in Tennessee, whar thar's rivers to waste, +them cats takes to the water like so many muskrats. + +"'When I finds that thar's nothin' doggin' me but a catamount, I heads +all casyooal for whar a tree's done been lodged midstream, merely +flingin' the reemark over my shoulder to the catamount that, if he +keeps on annoyin' me, he'll about pick up the makin's of a maulin'. +As I crawls out on the bole of the lodged tree, I can hear the +catamount sniggerin', same as if he's laughin' me to scorn, an' this +yere insultin' contoomely half-way makes me mad. Which I ain't in the +habit of bein' took lightly by no catamount. + +"'Drawin' myse'f out o' the water, I straddles the bole of my tree, +an' organizes for the catamount, who's already crawlin' after me. +T'arin' off a convenient bough the thickness of your laig, I arranges +myse'f as a reeception committee for visitin' catamounts, an' by way +of beginnin' confers on my partic'lar anamile sech a bat over the +snout that he falls back into the drink, an' starts to swimmin' fancy +an' goin' 'round in circles, same as if his funny-bone's been teched. + +"'Every time he gets in reach I jabs him in the eye with the splinter +end of the bough, an' at last he grows that disgusted at these +formal'ties he swims off to the bank. Thar he camps down on his +ha'nches, an' glares green-eyed at me across the ragin' flood. + +"'Shore, I could have raised the long yell for he'p, but am withheld +by foolish pride. Besides, I can hear Ben an' Jenks tusslin' an' +gruntin' an' carryin' on over in the mouth of the hollow, as they +kyarves into each other with their knives, an' don't want to distract +their attention. + +"'As I sets camped thar on my lodged tree, an' the catamount is +planted on the bank, I hears the lippin' splash of a paddle, an' then +a voice which sounds like a chime of bells floats across to ask, "Dick +Stallins, you ornery runnigate, wharever be you?" + +"'It's my Sarah Ann, whose love, gettin' the upper hand of maidenly +reeserve, has sent her projectin' 'round in search of me. She's in my +dugout. + +"'The catamount identifies her as soon as me; an' thinkin' she ought +to be easy, he slides into the water ag'in an' starts for the +boat. It's that dark I ain't shore of his deesigns ontil I sees +him reach up, tip the dugout over, an' set Sarah Ann to wallowin' in +the rushin' torrent. The dugout upsets on the catamount, an' this so +confooses him that, by the time he's got his bearin's, Sarah Ann's +been swept down to my tree, an' I've lifted her to a seat by my +side. The catamount don't try to lay siege to our p'sition, +recognizing it as impregnable, but paddles back to the shore an' +goes into watchful camp as prior. + +"'For myse'f, I'm so elevated with love an' affection at havin' Sarah +Ann with me, I dismisses the catamount as a dead issue, an' as sech +beneath contempt, an' by way of mollifyin' Sarah Ann's feelin's, cuts +loose an' kisses her a gross or two of times, an' each like the crack +of a bull-whacker's whip. + +"'Old Bender hears them caresses plumb up to his house--as well he +may, they're that onreeserved an' earnest--an' thinks it's some one +shootin' a rifle. It has the effect of bringin' out the old Spartan +with his Hawkins; an' the first word of it that reaches me an' Sarah +Ann is him, Marm Bender an' the whole b'ilin' of folks is down thar on +the bank, tryin' to make out in the gen'ral dimness whatever be we-all +lovers doin' out thar in the middle of the Hawgthief on a snag. + +"'They don't deetect my catamount none, which sagacious feline slinks +off into the shadows covered with confoosion; all they sees is us. An' +the spectacle certainly excites old Bender. "Gen'ral Jackson fit the +Injuns!" he exclaims, as all of a sudden a thought strikes him; "that +measly excoose for a Union Democrat out thar is seekin' to eelope with +our Sarah Ann." + +"'The old murderer starts to get a bead on me with the Hawkins. +"Father," yells Marm Bender, pullin' at his sleeve, "you shore must be +mistook." + +"'Old Bender won't have it. "Maw," he returns, strivin' to disengage +himse'f, "I was never mistook about nothin' in my life but once, an' +that's when I shifts from baldface whiskey to hard cider on a +temp'rance argyooment. Let me go, woman, till I drill the miscreant +an' wash the stain from our fam'ly honor." + +"'Before the old hom'cide can get to launderin' the fam'ly honor in my +blood, however, Sarah Ann has interposed. "Don't go to blazing away at +my Dickey, pop," she sings out, "or I'll shore burn every improvement +you got, an' leave you an' maw an' me roofless in the midst of the +wilderness." + +"'This goes a long way towards soberin' down old Bender, because he +knows my Sarah Ann's the Cumberland hollyhock to put them menaces into +execootion. He lowers the muzzle of his old 8-squar', an' allows if I +promises to marry the girl I can swim ashore an' be forgiven. + +"'Thus the matter ends mighty amic'ble. We'all goes trackin' up to the +house, a preacher is rushed to the scene from Pineknot, an' them +nuptials between Sarah Ann an' me is sol'mnized. Shore, Jenks an' Ben +is thar. They're found by a committee of their friends scattered about +at the foot of the hollow, an' is collected an' brought up to the +weddin' in blankets. Dave Daniels, who surveys the scene next day, +says you could plant corn whar they fit, it's that plowed up. + +"'Followin' the cer'mony Marm Bender an' the old gent takes me into +their hearts an' cabin like I'm their own an' only son. He's a great +old daddy-in-law, old Bender is, an' is ven'rated for forty miles +about Gingham Mountain, as deevoted heart an' soul to baldface, +seven-up an' sin in any shape. + +"'That match-makin' catamount? + +"'We hives him. Me an' my new daddy-in-law tracks him to his reetreat, +an' when we're through he's plumb used up. I confers the pelt on my +Sarah Ann; an' she spreads it on the floor over by her side of the +bed, so as to put her little number sevens on it when she boils out of +a winter's mornin' to light the fire, an' rustle me my matoot'nal +buckwheat cakes an' sa'sage.'" + + + + +III + +CYNTHIANA, PET-NAMED ORIGINAL SIN + + +"This yere speecific heroine is a heap onconventional, so much so as +to be plumb puzzlin' to the common mind. Jest the same, she finishes +winner, an' makes herse'f a gen'ral source of pride. She don't notify +us, none whatever, that she intends a Wolfville deboo; jest nacherally +descends upon us, that a-way, as onannounced as a mink on a settin' +hen. All the same, we knows she's comin' while yet she's five mile out +on the trail. Not that we savvys who she is or what she aims at; we +merely gets moved up next to the fact that she's a lady, an' likewise +no slouch for looks. + +"We reads these yere trooths in the dust old Monte kicks up, as he +comes swingin' in with the stage. Which it's the weakness of this +inebriate, as I tells you former, that once let him get a lady aboard, +it looks like it's a signal for him to go pourin' the leather into his +team like he ain't got a minute to live. It's a p'lite attention he +assoomes, in his besotted way, is doo the sex. + +"It's the more strange, too, since it's the only attention Monte ever +pays 'em. He never looks at 'em, never speaks to 'em; simply plants +himse'f on the box, as up an' down as a cow's tail, an' t'ars into +them harassed hosses. If the lady he's complimentin' that a-way was to +get jolted overboard--which the same wouldn't be no mir'cal, +considerin' how that dipsomaniac drives--it's even money he leaves her +hunched up like a jack-rabbit alongside the trail, an' never thinks of +stoppin' or turnin' back. He's merely a drunkard with that one fool +idee of showin' off, an' nothin' the stage people's ever able to say +can teach him different. From first to last you-all could measure +Monte's notion of the pulcritoode of a petticoat passenger by the +extent to which he lams loose with his whip. Given what he deems is a +she-sunburst, he shorely does maltreat the company's live stock +shameful. + +"'If,' observes Peets, as a bunch of us stands gossipin' round in +front of the Red Light that time, watchin' the dust cloud draw nearer +an' nearer--'if it's poss'ble to imagine the old sot as havin' a +Cleopatra to freight over from Tucson, it's a cow pony to a Mexican +sheep he'd kill one of the wheelers.' + +"Thar ain't none of us knows who this yere Cleopatra the Doc refers to +is, onless it's Colonel Sterett, who edits the _Daily Coyote_. Still, +the compar'son is plenty convincin'. Accordin' to the Doc himself, +this Cleopatra's a meteoric female party, as lively as she is lovely, +who sets a passel of ancient sports to walkin' in a cirkle back +some'ers in the mists of time. Also, it's bloo chips to white, an' bet +'em higher than a cat's back, the Doc knows. The Doc is ondoubted the +best eddicated gent that ever makes a moccasin track between Yuma an' +the Raton Pass, an' when he onbuckles techin' any historic feachures, +you can call for a gooseha'r pillow, an' go to sleep on it he ain't +barkin' at no knot. + +"Thar's a feeble form of young tenderfoot pesterin' about the suburbs +of the crowd. He's one of them hooman deficits, so plumb ornery as to +be useless East, which their fam'lies, in gettin' rid of 'em, saws +happ'ly off onto a onprotected West. This partic'lar racial disaster's +been on our hands now mebbe it's six months, an' we-all is hopin' +that in some p'intless sort o' way he'll brace up and do overt acts +which entitles us to stampede him out of camp. But so far he don't. + +"This yere exile comes wanderin' into the talk by askin'--his voice as +thin as a curlew's: + +"'Who is this old Monte you're alloodin' at?' + +"'Whoever he is?' says Boggs. 'Which if you-all'd struck camp by way +of Tucson, instead of skulkin' upon us in the low-down fashion you +does along of the Lordsburg-Red Dog buckboard, you wouldn't have to +ask none. He's the offishul drunkard of Arizona, Monte is. Which the +same should be notice, too, that it's futile for you to go ropin' at +that p'sition. I says this, since from the quantity of Old Jordan +you've been mowin' away, I more'n half infers that you nourishes +designs upon the place.' + +"The feeble young shorthorn smiles a puny smile, and don't lunge forth +into no more queries. + +"Texas, who's been listenin' to what Boggs says, squar's 'round an' +half-way erects his crest for an argyooment. Texas has had marital +troubles, an' him ponderin' the same constant renders him some morbid +an' morose. + +"'From your tone of voice, Dan,' remarks Texas, 'I takes it you holds +Monte's appetite for nose paint to be a deefect. That's whar I +differs. That old marauder is a drunkard through sheer excess of +guile. He finds in alcohol his ark of refooge. I only wish I'd took to +whiskey in my 'teens.' + +"Boggs is amazed. + +"'Texas,' he says, plenty sorrowful, 'it wouldn't astonish me none if +you finds your finish in a wickeyup deevoted to loonatics, playin' +with a string of spools.' + +"'That's your onthinkin' way. Do you reckon now, if I'd been a slave +to drink when that Laredo wife of mine first sees me, she'd have +w'irled me to the altar an' made me the blighted longhorn you sees +now? She wouldn't have let me get near enough to her to give her a +bunch of grapes. It's my sobri'ty that's my ondoin', that an' bein' +plumb moral. Which I onerringly traces them divorce troubles, an' her +sellin' up my stock at public vandoo for cost an' al'mony like she +does, to me weakly holdin' aloof from whisky when I'm young.' + +"'Which I shore,'--an' Boggs shows he's mighty peevish an' put +out--'never meets up with a more exasp'ratin' conversationist! It's +because you're sech an' egreegious egotist! You-all can't talk ten +minutes, Texas, but what you're allers bringin' in them domestic +affairs of yours. If you desires to discuss whiskey abstract, an' from +what the Doc thar calls a academic standp'int, I'm your gent. But I +declines to be drug into personal'ties, in considerin' which I might +be carried by the heat of deebate to whar I gets myse'f shot up.' + +"'I sees your attitood, Dan; I sees your attitood, an' respects it. +Jest the same, thar's an anti-nuptial side to the liquor question, an' +bein' a drunkard that a-way is not without its compensations.' + +"'But he's bound to be so blurred,' reemonstrates Boggs, who by nacher +is dispootatious, an' once started prone to swing an' rattle with a +topic like a pup to a pig's y'ear: 'That drunkard is so plumb +blurred.' + +"'Blurred but free, Dan,' retorts Texas, mighty firm. 'Don't overlook +no sech bet as that drunkard bein' free. Also, it's better to be free +than sober.' + +"'Goin' back to Monte,' says Boggs, returning to the orig'nal text; +'half the time, over to the O.K. Restauraw when Missis Rucker slams +him down his chuck, he ain't none shore he's eatin' flapjacks or +rattlesnakes. The other day, when Rucker drops a plate, he jumps three +feet in the air, throws up his hands an' yells, "Take the express box, +gents, but spar' my life!" It's whiskey does it. The old cimmaron +thinks it's road agents stickin' him up.' + +"Dispoote is only ended by the stage thunderin' in--leathers creakin', +chains jinglin', bosses a lather of sweat an' alkali dust, Monte +cocked up on the box as austere as a treeful of owls. He's for openin' +the door, but Peets is thar before him. Let it get dealt down to +showin' attentions to a lady, an' the briskest sport'll have to move +some sudden, or the Doc'll beat him to it. Which he certainly is the +p'litest drug sharp of which hist'ry makes mention! + +"The Doc offers his hand to he'p her out, but she hits the ground +onaided as light as any leaf. Nacherally we looks her over. Take her +from foretop to fetlocks, she's as lovely as a diamond flush. She's +got corn-colored ha'r, an' eyes as soft as the sky in Joone. Peets +calls 'em azure--bein' romantic. As for the rest of us, we don't call +'em nothin'. Thar's a sprightly look about 'em, which would shore +jestify any semi-proodent gent in jumpin' sideways. Likewise, she's +packin' a Colt's .45, an' clutchin' a winchester in her little claw, +the same contreebutin' a whole lot toward makin' her impressive as a +pageant. + +"'How are you, sports?' she says, tossin' her disengaged hand a +heap arch. 'I gets word about you-all up in Vegas, an' allows I'll +come trundlin' down yere an' size you up. My idee is you needs +regen'ratin'.' + +"'Is thar anything we-all can he'p you to, Miss?' asks Enright, who +takes the play away from Peets. 'If aught is wanted, an' thar's a +lariat in the outfit long enough to reach, you-all can trust Wolfville +to rope, throw an' hawg-tie the same accordin' to your wishes.' + +"'Yes,' adds Peets, 'as Sam says, if thar's any little way we-all can +serve you, Miss, jest say the word. Likewise, if you don't feel like +speakin', make signs; an' if you objects to makin' signs, shake a +bush. All we reequires is the slightest hint.' + +"'Be ca'm,' says the young lady, her manner as se'f-confident as if +she's a queen. 'Thar's nothin' demanded of you outlaws except to +tamely listen. I'm a se'f-respectin', se'f-supportin' young female, +who believes in Woman Suffrage, an' the equality of the sexes in +pol'tics an' property rights. Which my name is Bark, baptized +Cynthiana, the same redooced by my old pap, while yet alive, into the +pet name of Original Sin. It's my present purpose to become a citizen +of this yere camp, an' take my ontrammeled place in its commercial +life by openin' a grogshop. Pendin' which, do you-all see this?'--an' +she dallies gently with a fringe of b'ar-claws she's wearin' as a +necklace, the same bein' in loo of beads. 'That grizzly's as big an' +ugly as him.' Yere she tosses a rose-leaf hand at Boggs, who breaks +into a profoose sweat. 'I downs him. Also, I'll send the first +horned-toad among you, who pays me any flagrant attentions, pirootin' +after that b'ar. Don't forget, gents: my name's Bark, Cynthiana Bark, +pet-named Original Sin, an' thar's a bite goes with the Bark.' + +"Havin' conclooded this yere salootatory, Miss Bark, givin' a +coquettish flourish to her winchester, goes trapsein' over to the O. +K. Restauraw, leavin' us--as the story-writer puts it--glooed to the +spot. You see it ain't been yoosual for us to cross up with ladies +who, never waitin' for us to so much as bat an admirin' eye or wag an +adorin' y'ear, opens neegotations by threatenin' to shoot us in two. + +"'Thar's a young lady,' says Peets, who's first to ketch his breath, +'that's got what I calls _verve_.' + +"'Admittin' which,' observes Enright, some doubtful, havin' been +thrown back on his hocks a whole lot; 'some of you-all young bucks +must none the less have looked at her in a improper way to start her +ghost-dancin' like she does.' + +"Enright's eye roves inquirin'ly from Boggs to Texas, an' even takes +in Tutt. + +"'Not me!' declar's Texas, plenty fervent; 'not me!--more'n if she's a +she rattlesnake!' + +"'As the husband of Tucson Jennie,' observes Tutt, his air some +haughty--which he allers puts on no end of dog whenever he mentions +his fam'ly--'as the husband of Tucson Jennie, an' the ondoubted father +of that public ornament an' blessin', little Enright Peets Tutt, I do +not regyard it as up to me to cl'ar myse'f of no sech charges.' + +"'Sam,' says Boggs, his voice reproachful, 'you notes how she makes +invidious compar'sons between me an' that b'ar, an' how she beefs the +b'ar? After which gratooitous slur it's preeposterous to s'ppose I'd +go admirin' her or to takin' any chances.' + +"'Then it's you,' says Enright, comin' round on the puny tenderfoot. +'Jack,' he continyoos, appealin' to Jack Moore, who's kettle-tender to +the Stranglers, of which arm of jestice Enright is chief--'Jack, do +you reemark any ontoward looks or leers on the part of this yere +partic'lar prairie dog, calc'lated to alarm a maiden of fastidious +feelin's?' + +"'Sir,' breaks in the feeble young tenderfoot, an' all mighty +tremyoolous, 'as shore as my name is Oscar Freelinghuysen I never even +glances at that girl. I ain't so much as present while she's issuin' +her deefiances. I lapses into the Red Light the moment I observes how +she's equipped, an' Black Jack, the barkeep, will ver'fy my words.' + +"'All right,' warns Enright, plumb severe, 'you be careful an' conduct +yourself deecorous. Wolfville is a moral camp. Thar's things done +every day an' approved of in Noo York which'd get a gent downed in +Wolfville.' + +"'That Miss Bark mentions she's Woman Suffrage, Sam?' observes Boggs, +in a questionin' way, as we stands sloppin' out a recooperative forty +drops in the Red Light. + +"'Shore!' replies Enright. 'The Doc yere can tell you all about 'em. +As I onderstands, they're a warlike bevy of women who voylently +resents not bein' born men. Thar's one thing, however; I sincerely +trusts that none of you young sports'll prove that forward an' onwary +as to go callin' her by her pet name of Original Sin. Which she might +take advantage of it. Them exponents of women's rights is plumb full +of the onexpected, that a-way, an' it's my belief that all who ain't +honin' to commit sooicide'll be careful an' address her as Miss +Bark.' + +"'Be they many of that Woman Suffrage brand?' persists Boggs. + +"'Herds of 'em,' chips in Peets. 'The Eastern ranges is alive with +'em. But they don't last. As a roole they gets married, an' that's +gen'rally speakin' the end of their pernicious activ'ties. Wedlock is +a heap apt to knock their horns off.' + +"Faro Nell, Tucson Jennie an' Missis Rucker don't take to this Miss +Bark's Woman Suffrage views. + +"'She's welcome,' says the latter esteemable cook an' matron, 'to her +feelin's; but she mustn't come preachin' no doctrine to me, wharof the +effects is to lower me to Rucker's level. I've had trouble enough +redoocin' that ground-hawg to where he belongs, an' I ain't goin' to +sacrifice the work of years for no mere sentiments.' + +"'Which I shore agrees with you, Missis Rucker,' says Nell, lookin' up +from some plum preeserves she's backin' off the noonday board to +consider Cherokee, who's settin' next; 'a woman has enough to do to +boss one gent, without tryin' to roole broadcast over whole +commoonities.' + +"At this exchange of views Cherokee softly grins like a sharp who can +see his way through. As for Rucker, who's waitin' on the table an' +packin' in viands from the kitchen, he takes it as sullen as a +sorehead dog. Personal, I ain't got no use for Rucker; but between +us, Missis Rucker, one way an' another, does certainly oppress him +grievous. + +"Before the week is out we knows a lot more about Miss Bark than we +does when she first comes prancin' out upon us from Monte's stage. Not +that thar's aught ag'inst the lady. It's doo to Enright, who begins +recollectin' things. + +"'Which I knows her pop,' explains Enright, 'now my mem'ry's assertin' +itse'f, I knows him when he first comes bulgin' into the Pecos Valley, +eighteen years ago. This Original Sin daughter an' her maw don't show +up none till later. Thar's no more innocent form of tenderfoot than +Bark ever comes weavin' into the Southwest. He's that ignorantly +innocent, wild geese is as wise as serpents to him. But he's full of a +painstakin' energy, all the same, an' mighty assidyoous to learn.' + +"'Whatever does he turn to?' asks Texas. + +"'He hires out to a peach ranch. An' this'll show you how industrious, +that a-way, this Bark tarrapin is. The peach ranch party has a measly +bunch of sheep. He keeps 'em nights in a box-tight board corral, so's +the coyotes can't get to mingle with 'em none. Days he throws 'em +loose to feed. The first evenin' the peach ranch gent tells this yere +Bark to corral the sheep, an' then come in for supper. "An' be shore," +says the peach ranch party, "you gets 'em all in." + +"'An hour goes by, an' the peach ranch party is about through his +feed, when this yere Bark drifts up to the table. His face is flushed, +but he's w'arin' a look of triumph. "I hives 'em," says he, some +exultant; "only one lamb does shore force me to extend myse'f a lot. +I'll gamble I runs a hundred miles before I rounds him up." + +"'Next mornin' the peach ranch party goes out to throw loose them +sheep. As he cranes his neck over the corral fence to count the bunch +he's amazed to see a jack-rabbit galumpin' about among 'em. "Gin'ral +Jackson fit the English!" he exclaims; "however does that jack-rabbit +get himse'f mixed in with them sheep?" An' he p'ints it out to Bark. + +"'That ontootered person is all astonishment. "Jack-rabbit!" says he. +"Why, I hopes next fall to vote the reepublican ticket an' die +disgraced if I don't put it down for a lamb! That's the anamile which +makes me run my laigs off roundin' of him up!"' + +"'Which, as you says, Sam,' reemarks Tutt, signin' up to Black Jack to +set out the bottles, 'in the face of sech a showin' that Bark party +must have been plenty ardent.' + +"'I should shore yell!' coincides Boggs. + +"'But he learns in time, of course?' questions Nell. + +"'Learns, Nellie?' repeats Enright; 'it ain't three years before he +identifies himse'f with the life about him to that degree he bumps off +two kyard sharps who tries to cold-deck him in a poker game, an' finds +besides his steady employment stealin' old John Chisholm's calves, +tharby assistin' in plantin' the toomultous seed of what comes +subsequent to be called the Lincoln County War.' + +"'What's the finish of this interestin' crim'nal?' asks Cherokee. + +"'Lynched,' returns Enright. 'They puts him over the jump at Seven +Rivers. You see this Rattlesnake--they calls him Rattlesnake Bark in +them later years--is bunked down in one of these yere jim-crow, +barn-board hotels. Thar's a resoundin' form of guest in the adjoinin' +room, snorin' to beat four kings an' a ace. Rattlesnake tries poundin' +on the partition, an' sw'arin' at him, an' callin' him a hoss thief. +It's no avail. The snores of that boarder sounds like sawin' planks, +an' fa'rly rocks the shack--they're that stormy. Final, when +Rattlesnake's burdens gets to be more'n flesh an' blood can b'ar, he +reaches for his .45, an' bombards that sleeper good an' plenty through +the wall. It turns out it's the new jedge. In the mornin', when this +joorist is discovered too dead to skin, the public is that mortified +it takes Rattlesnake out as soon as breakfast's over, an' strings him +to a limb.' + +"'Don't this pore Rattlesnake get no hearin'?' asks Nell. + +"'You see, Nellie,' Enright explains, 'what with maverickin' the +Chisholm calves, an' a stage or two hold-up which p'ints to him, the +close season's been out as to this Rattlesnake person for mighty like +a year. Not but what he might have made preperations. Thar's a +reeligious party present who asks Rattlesnake if he wants to pray +some. "Which you'll cross the dark river all the easier," expounds the +reeligious gent. But Rattlesnake reefuses his ministrations. "I'm +what I be," he says; "an' as for that dark river you refers to, I +ain't lookin' for no shallow ford." + +"'This Rattlesnake,' continyoos Enright, 'is willin' to learn to the +last. It's his way. Spring a new game on him an' he's out instanter +lookin' for information an' advice. That's why he comes on so fast. +Thar bein' nothin' to stand him on for the purpose of bein' lynched, +the Stranglers posed Rattlesnake a-top of a stack of hay, which is +heaped up onder the tree they're yootilizin'. When the lariat is round +his neck, an' he's disposed of the reeligious party who attempts to +turn the business into a pra'r meetin', Rattlesnake looks at the chief +of the committee an' says, "This yere bein' hanged from hay-cocks is +plumb new to me entire, an' tharfore I'm obleeged to ask whether +you-all expects me to jump off or slide?"' + +"'Well,' comments Jack Moore, drawin' a deep breath, 'the old +murderer's game--misguided, mebby, but game.' + +"'That may be as it may,' observes Boggs, plenty thoughtful, 'but +after all I regyards these yere details which Sam onfurls as chiefly +valyooable as sheddin' a ray on this Miss Bark. On the chance that she +takes after her old man, from now on I'm goin' to walk 'round her like +she's a swamp.' + +"It's ten days after Miss Bark hits camp that things begins to focus. +An old Mexican, the color of a blacksmith's apron, an' his wife, who's +the same prosaic tint, comes creakin' along with a six-mule team--two +wagons, lead an' trail--loaded to the gyards with stock an' fixtures. +Said par'fernalia havin' arrived, Miss Bark busts in the door of the +old deserted Lady Gay, an' takes possession. Armstrong, who runs the +Noo York store, is the owner of the Lady Gay, but onder the +circumstances he allows it'd be the act of a barbarian to interfere. + +"Besides, the attitoode of the young lady herse'f is plumb discouragin'. + +"'I'd shore admire,' she remarks, as, with the aid of her Mexicans, +she goes tossin' things into p'sition, 'to see some male felon try to +run a bluff about him havin' title to this Lady Gay structure, an' +becomin' my landlord. Men have tyrannized a heap too long as it is +over onprotected women, an' thar's one at least who's took in patient +silence all she will.' + +"When Miss Bark's organized, she tacks up over the door a sign which +the painter at the stage station preepar's. It reads: + + VOTES FOR WOMEN SALOON + +"'Only get it straight,' says Miss Bark when she has us close-herded +at chuck time in the dinin' room of the O. K. Restauraw; 'I ain't +openin' this saloon none with a view to sordid gain. I got money +enough right now to buy an' burn this yere deboshed town of Wolfville, +an' then prance over an' purchase an' apply the torch to that equally +abandoned outfit, Red Dog. What I'm reachin' for is the p'litical +uplift of this camp. Recognizin' whiskey as a permanency an' that +saloons has come to stay, I aims to show folks how them reesorts +should be run. I hopes to see the day when every s'loon'll be in the +hands of ladies. For I holds that once woman controls the nosepaint of +the nation the ballot is bound to follow.' + +"Once it's started we-all manages to patronize the Votes For Women +S'loon for a average of three drinks a day. Enright advises it as +safer. + +"'Otherwise she might resent it,' explains Enright, 'an' armed to the +teeth like she is, an' possessin' them perfervid idees, thar's no +tellin' whar she'd end.' + +"None of us feels like hangin' out thar. The atmosphere is too plumb +formal. Besides, this yere Miss Bark has rooles. No kyards is +permitted; an', moreover, you've got to go outdoors to sw'ar. As to +drinks, the soberest among us can't get licker oftener than every +other time, while Monte can't get none at all. That Votes For Women +S'loon, considered as a house of call, is, an' put it mildest, +certainly depressin'. + +"When I speaks of us patronizin' Miss Bark for three daily drinks, +that a-way, thar's exceptions. Monte, as I states, is barred by the +lady personal on the grounds of him bein' a slave to drink; while Tutt +is forbid by Tucson Jennie. Tutt chafes some at them mandates of +Jennie's; but bein' keenly alive as to what's comin' to her, as well +as what she's cap'ble of, in her triple role of woman, wife an' +mother, he yields. + +"As for Texas, while he subscribes to them three diurnal drinks, he +allers insists that he has company. + +"'It's all right,' Texas'd say; 'I ain't intimatin' that this Miss +Bark goes cherishin' designs. But it's my onbreakable roole, since +them divoice experiences, to never enter the presence of onmarried +ladies onless attended by witnesses.' + +"Owin' to which, some of us allers trails in along with Texas when he +visits the Votes For Women S'loon. Even when thus protected he +onflaggin'ly confines his observations to 'Licker, Miss, please!' an' +stops thar as dumb as graven images. Once the licker's before him he +heaves it into himse'f same as if it's drugs, an' instantly pulls his +freight a heap speedy, breathin' hard. An' all as scared as a +jack-rabbit that's heard the howl of a wolf. + +"Does Miss Bark go proselytin' 'round concernin' them Rights of Women? +Which she shore does! You may say she omits no opportoonity. It's +before Wolfville gets that effete it mixes drinks, an' any one who +knows water from whiskey can 'tend bar. Wharfore, Miss Bark stands +watch an' watch with her old Mexican, Pancho. The times she herse'f is +min'sterin' to our needs she's preachin' Woman Suffrage incessant. +Also, not bein' plumb locoed, we bows in concord tharunto. Enright an' +Peets both concurs that it's the thing to do, an' we does it. + +"'Whatever difference does it make?' says Enright; 'the price of +steers remains the same, three-of-a-kind continyoos to beat two pa'r, +thar's still fifty-two kyards in a faro deck, an' every other law of +nacher survives onteched. My notion is to agree with this Miss Bark, +verbal, an' trust to Wolfville's onbeatable luck to pull us through.' + +"This counsel sounds good to us, an' we follows it. When Miss Bark +sets forth her woman's rights fulm'nations along with her nosepaint, +we murmurs a hearty assent, an' drinks down both impartial. Boggs, +who's 'motional an' easy worked on, even gets to whar he gives it out +he's actchooally a convert. + +"Miss Bark has been on the map for mebby it's a week, then thar occurs +a eeposide which, while it makes no profound impression, deceased +bein' a Mexican, shows she ain't packin' her pap Rattlesnake's old +Colt's .45 in a sperit of facetiousness. It's about third drink time +one evenin' when thar's the dull roar of a gun from over in the Votes +For Women S'loon. When we arrives we finds a dead greaser carelessly +quiled up near the door, an' Miss Bark snappin' the empty shell out of +her six-shooter. + +"'He was roode,' is the only explanation she vouchsafes; an' Enright, +after lookin' at Peets a spell, who's lookin' at the ceilin', says +it's s'fficient. + +"'Only,' says Enright, when we're all back safe in the Red Light, 'I +sincerely trusts she won't get her hindsights notched up to whar she +takes to bumpin' off _Americanos_. I shore don't know whatever in sech +case we could do, vig'lance committees, in the very essence of their +construction, possessin' no joorisdiction over ladies.' + +"'That's right, Sam,' says Peets, plenty grave; 'if it ever gets to +whar this Miss Bark turns her artillery loose on the camp permis'cus +the only hope left would be to adjourn Wolfville _sine die_.' + +"Miss Bark, however, never does grow homicidal toward any of us, an' +the only effect of her puttin' that Mexican over is that it inclines +folks gen'ral to step high an' softly on what occasions they're found +plantigradin' about in her s'ciety. + +"One week, two weeks, three weeks goes by, an' since a dead Mexican +more or less ain't calc'lated to leave no onefface'ble scars the +incident is all but forgot, when a second uprisin' takes place in the +Votes For Women S'loon. This time it's that sickly curlew-voiced Oscar +who's the shriekin' center of eevents. Most of us is jest filin' out +of the O. K. Restauraw, pickin' our teeth after our matootinal +reepast, when we beholds this yere Oscar boilin' fo'th from the Votes +For Women S'loon, all spraddled out. As he goes t'arin' down the +street Miss Bark seelects a graceful p'sition in the door, an' ca'mly +pumps three loads at him out of her winchester. When I says she pumps +them bullets at Oscar it's to be took conserv'tive; for none of 'em +hits him, but only tosses up the dust about his flyin' feet. At the +last shot Oscar cripples down in a shiverin' heap; an' with that Texas +an' Boggs, not knowin' the extent of his injuries, rolls him onto a +blanket an' packs him to his room over at the O. K. House, so's Peets +can prospect his frame all scientific locatin' the lead. + +"Thar bein' no lead, as reelated, Peets reeports final to that +effect. + +"'Only,' says Peets, 'he's scared up to sech extents that if our Joan +of Arc had dusted his gaiters with so much as two more bullets he'd +have been beyond medical skill.' + +"Followin' the foosilade Miss Bark sends for Enright. + +"'It's this way,' she goes on, when Enright arrives. 'That shorthorn +Oscar comes lurchin' in, an' asks for nosepaint. As he stands thar, +puttin' it onder his belt--me meanwhile swabbin' off the bar--he +mentions that his paw's rich, an' his step-maw's jest died, leavin' +him an' his paw alone. Then he calls attention to the presence in camp +of that strayed sky-pilot, who preaches an' passes the hat the other +evenin' over in the wareroom of the Noo York store. It's now, havin' +got the bar tittivated to my taste, I has time to look this Oscar +person's way, an' I finds him gloatin' over me in form an' manner not +to be mistook. "Whatever be you leerin' at?" I deemands, bein' I'm in +no mood for insults. Tharupon, he cuts loose a mouthful of platitoodes +concernin' wedlock, an' about me bein' the soul of his soul. Havin' +stood it a while, an' findin' my forbearance makes him worse, I grabs +my winchester whar it's reposin' ready for eemergincies on the +dripboard, an' you knows the rest.' + +"'With your free consent, Miss,' says Enright, 'I'd like to put one +query. Was you aimin' to down, or to simply skeer this Oscar?' + +"'I was only skeerin' him up some,' replies Miss Bark coyly. 'W'y, if +I was reely out for his skelp, I'd have shore got it a heap. You can +pin a patch the size of a dollar on that disparin' lover's coat, an' +I'll cut it nine times in ten, offhand, at a hundred yards.' + +"'Tests is not reequired,' Enright interposes, plenty hasty; 'it's +part of the organic law of this yere camp that a lady's word, even +about her age, is to be took onchallenged.' + +"'Which I'm flattered,' says Miss Bark. 'Now, is thar anything else?' + +"'Only this,' returns Enright. 'As long as he gives you cause, an' you +can shoot like you says, why ever don't you down him?' + +"'Which I confesses,' says Miss Bark, a blush mantlin' her brow, +'that sech is my orig'nal intentions when I reaches for my weepon. But +jest as I sees that Oscar through the sights it comes upon me that +thar's nothin' in bein' preecip'tate, an' mebby I'd better give myse'f +the needed time to think his offer over.' + +"Enright shakes his wisdom-freighted head; when he relates his talk to +Peets, the Doc shakes his head sim'lar in sapient yoonison. + +"'Which I'll bet a hatful of yellow chips,' says Boggs, who's stood +listenin', 'ag'inst a handful of whites, that this yere Miss Bark +makes herse'f an' that Oscar shorthorn man an' wife.' + +"'Now I wouldn't wonder none,' observes Peets, replyin' to the look in +Enright's eye. 'That shootin' needn't count. A troo affection is +freequent boisterous, that a-way.' + +"'An' in case,' says Enright, 'the kyards do fall in favor of +matrimony, it'll most likely be the end of that Votes For Women +S'loon. I begins to see how this yere ongrateful outfit may yet get +deep in debt to that egreegious Oscar.' + +"None of us ever says so, but it's the common belief that Texas +connives at this yere threatened Oscar's escape. In any case, the +next mornin' Oscar goes catfoot out of the O. K. House before folks is +up, an' takes to hidin' out. The fact is he's layin' for Monte an' the +stage, about ten mile no'th of camp. Leastwise, he's thar a heap when +Monte comes along, an' deemands that he be took up an' carried to +Tucson. + +"It ain't first drink time before this Oscar's missed, an' by second +drink time the news has drifted over to Miss Bark. It's Peets who +informs her, an' he tells us, when reelatin' the incident, that the +way that deeserted lady knits her brow is a caution to philos'phers. + +"'So,' she says at last, 'that onmitigated seedoocer thinks to leave +me in this heartless way. He'll find before he's through that it's no +light matter to charm into fervent life a love like mine.' + +"'It's the theery, Miss,' says Peets, 'of the best minds in camp that +this Oscar's hit the Tucson trail afoot, with a plan of headin' off +the stage.' + +"Ten minutes an' Miss Bark is in the saddle, a lead pony gallopin' by +her side, in hot pursoote of the dir'lect. + +"'That lead pony looks om'nous, Doc,' observes Enright, as the two +stands watchin' Miss Bark's departure. + +"'It's prov'dential,' remarks Peets, as he heads the procession to the +Red Light, 'that that sky-pilot's aboard the stage. Which he ought to +work in plumb handy.' + +"Six hours later Miss Bark comes surgin' in with her Oscar foogitive, +his heels tied onder the belly of the lead hoss. Any one can see by +his benumbed expression that he's a married man. The two heads +straight for the Votes For Women S'loon, an' after boltin' her new +he'pmeet into the back room, Miss Bark takes a peek in the glass, pats +down her ha'r, an' goes behind the bar as yoosual. + +"'Yes,' she replies, an' all a heap modest an' artless, as Peets an' +Enright--actin' on behalf of the camp--gyardedly inquires if they're +to offer congratulations, 'I reckon you may. An' the best part is that +my dear Oscar's so plumb ready an' willin'. Which I never knows a +bridegroom, gents, who gets married with so little struggle.' + +[Illustration: "IT'S YOU, OSCAR, THAT I WANT," OBSERVES MISS BARK. "I +CONCLOODES, UPON SOBER SECOND THOUGHT, TO ACCEPT YOUR OFFER OF MARRIAGE." +p. 93.] + +"'How soon, Missis Freelinghuysen,' says Peets, 'do you-all reckon on +lettin' this Oscar husband out?' + +"'Oh,' she returns, 'as soon as ever it's safe. Jest now he's some +onstrung; but in a day or two I figger he'll begin to get reeconciled +to his bliss. An' at that, my main idee in lockin' him up is one of +reeform rather than restraint. Oscar's been over-drinkin' himse'f of +late; an' I aims to get the whiskey out of him, so as I can form some +reas'nable estimate of how much of a husband that a-way I've done +roped up.' + +"'Is thar any objections,' asks Enright, 'to our visitin' this modern +pris'ner of Chillon? We binds ourselves to say nothin' that'll fret +him, or set him to beatin' his life out ag'inst the bars.' + +"'W'y, shore,' she replies, 'you-all is quite welcome. I only hopes +you'll teach him to look at things in their proper light.' + +"'It ain't so much,' says this Oscar husband, when Enright an' Peets +calls upon him in his captivity, 'that I've been hurried, onregyardful +of my feelin's, into the married state. But, gents, my parent is doo, +accordin' to his last letter, to come curvin' in yere any minute; an' +whatever do you-all reckon now he's goin' to say?' + +"Enright an' Peets is so moved they promises the imprisoned Oscar +their support, an' this leaves him, if not hopeful, at least some +cheered. + +"Monte gives his version of them nuptials when he returns from +Tucson. + +"'Which it's this a-way, pards,' says Monte. 'I'm twenty miles no'th +of yere, when somethin' flashes by with a lead hoss, like arrows. +Thinks I, "That's a hoss thief gettin' away with some stock"; an', +allowin' Jack Moore'll be hard on his neefarious hocks, I'm lookin' +back to see can I raise Jack's dust. The next I knows, an' all as +sudden as a pan of milk from a top shelf, I hears a silv'ry voice +remarkin': "Set your brake!" an' turnin' my head I finds a winchester +p'intin' as squar' between my eyes as you-all could lay your finger. +Gents, thar's something mighty cogent about a winchester that a-way, +an' I shore shoves on the brake with sech abandon I snaps the shank +short off.' + +"'Wharever is this Oscar party?' asks Enright. + +"'He's with me on the box; an' when this yere intrepid Miss Bark takes +to dom'neerin' at us with that rifle he collapses. "It's you, Oscar," +observes this Miss Bark, shiftin' the muzzle to him. "Upon second +thought I concloods to accept your offer of marriage." + +"'Which at that crisis,' remarks Peets, 'this Oscar of course breaks +into loud an' joyful cries.' + +"'Not exactly. In fact, his tones if anything is some low-sperited. "I +takes it," he says, when he's able to command his feelin's, "that you +declines them proffers with your winchester at the time when made." +But the lady dismisses this as a quibble, an' merely sayin' that she +won't be paltered with no farther, orders Oscar an' the Bible sharp +who's ridin' inside to assemble by the edge of the trail. The Bible +sharp attempts to lay the foundations of fresh objections by askin' +Oscar does he do this of his own free will; but the muzzle of the +winchester--which the bride all along reetains in her hands--begins +movin' 'round in his direction, observin' which man'festation he +pronounces 'em husband an' wife. "What heaven has j'ined together," +says he, "let no man put asunder." After which he blesses 'em, an' +reeports the last cinch fastened. "Pay him, Oscar," whispers the +bride. Wharupon Oscar, his fingers tremblin', squars the Bible sharp +with the price of a brace of steers, an' the deed is done. Now he's +hers for better or worse, she ropes his heels together onder the belly +of her lead hoss, an' the happy pa'r goes romancin' back for +Wolfville, while I kicks loose what's left of the brake an' p'ints out +ag'in for Tucson.' + +"On the third day, by givin' his parole an' promising to fondly +reeport to his spouse once every hour, Oscar is permitted to go +reecreatin' about the camp. + +"'Only,' says the lady, by way of warnin' to Black Jack, 'thar's to be +no drinks.' + +"These yere strained conditions preevails for mebby it's five days, +when, as the stage swings in to the post office one evenin', a stout +florid old gent gets out. He comes puffin' up to Peets a heap +soopercilious. + +"'Do you-all know a addle-pated an' semi-eediotic young party,' says +he, 'who's named Oscar Freelinghuysen?' + +"'Why, yes,' returns Peets, 'I do. Onless my mem'ry's pulled its +picket pin an' gone plumb astray he's the eboolient sharp who +conclooded a somewhat toomultuous courtship last week by gettin' +married. He's in the shank of his honeymoon as we stands chattin' +yere.' + +"The florid gent glares at Peets, his feachures the color of liver, +his eyes stickin' out like the eyes of a snail. + +"'Married!' he gasps, an' falls in a apoplectic fit. + +"It takes a week an' all the drugs Peets has got before that +apoplectic's able to sit up an' call for nosepaint. An' whatever do +you think? His daughter-in-law, but onbeknownsts to him as sech, +nurses him from soda to hock. Oscar Joonior? By advice of Enright that +prodigal's took to cover over in Red Dog ontil we've made shore about +the fatted calf. + +"The former Miss Bark puts up that nursin' game with Peets, an' day +an' night she hangs over her apoplectic father-in-law like a painter +over a picture. She's certainly as cunnin' as a pet fox! She dresses +as quiet as a quail an' makes her voice as softly sober as a suckin' +dove's. In the end she's got that patient hypnotized. + +"After Peets declar's him out of danger, an' all propped up in his +blankets he's subscribed to mighty likely it's the fifth drink, the +apoplectic begins to shed tears a heap profoose, an' relate to his +nurse--the former Miss Bark--how his two wives has died, leavin' him a +lonely man. She, the former Miss Bark, is his only friend--he +says--an' he winds up his lamentations by recommendin' that she become +his third. + +"'You're the only hooman heart who ever onderstands me,' he wails, +gropin' for her hand, 'an' now my ongrateful boy has contracted a +messalliance I shore wants you for my wife.' + +"She hangs her head like a flower at night, an' lets on she's a heap +confoosed. + +"'Speak,' he pleads; 'tell me that you'll be mine.' + +"'Which I'd shore admire to, but I can't,' she murmurs; 'I'm wedded to +your son.' + +"The old apoplectic asks for more licker in a dazed way, an' sends for +Peets. The Doc an' him goes into execyootive session for most an +hour; meanwhile the camp's on edge. + +"At the close the Doc eemerges plumb radiant. + +"'Everything's on velvet,' he says; 'thar's never a more joodicious +convalescent. He freely admits, considerin' the sort of daughter-in-law +he's acquired, that Oscar has more sense than folks suspects.' + +"Now that the skies is cl'ared, the bridegroom is fetched back from +Red Dog, an' thar's a grand reeconciliation. + +"'We'll all go back East together,' sobs father-in-law Freelinghuysen, +holdin' both their hands. + +"Two days later they starts, Missis Freelinghuysen Joonier lookin' +after father-in-law Freelinghuysen same as if he's a charlotte +roosse. + +"The Votes For Women S'loon? + +"It's kept a secret, at Peet's su'gestion, him bein' apoplectic that +a-way. The stock is bought by public subscription of the camp, an' +when the Freelinghuysen household is out of sight an' hearin' we +invites Red Dog over in a body an' onbelts in a mod'rate orgy. The +sign, 'Votes For Women S'loon,' is now preeserved in the custody of +the Wolfville Historical Society, which body is called into active +bein' upon motion of Peets, while Red Dog an' us is drinkin' up the +stock." + + + + +IV + +OLD MONTE, OFFICIAL DRUNKARD + + +"Shore; Monte's the offishul drunkard of Arizona." The old cattleman +was answering my question. "Or, seein' that mebby Wolfville's +joorisdiction won't be held none to reach beyond, let's say the +offishul drunkard of Cochise County. That's Monte's civic designation; +offishul drunkard, an' meant to fix his social place. + +"Does he resent it? + +"Which he proudly w'ars that title like it's a kingly crown! It's as +good as even money that to ondertake to sep'rate him from it, or deny +the same, is the one single thing he bristles up at an' give you a +battle over. + +"Which this yere last should mean a heap, since Monte's plumb pacific +by nacher, an' abhors war to the mean confines of bein' timid. To be +shore, he'll steam at the nose, an' paw the sod, an' act like he's out +to spread rooin far an' wide--that he's doo to leave everything in +front of him on both sides of the road. But in them perfervid +man'festations he don't reely intend nothin' either high or heenious, +or more'n jest to give his se'f-respect an outing that a-way. Let the +opp'sition call him down, an' the crafty old cimmaron'll go to the +diskyard instanter. + +"Which at that, Monte ain't without his interestin' side. When onder +the inflooence of nosepaint, which last is constant, he has three +distinct moods. About the fo'th drink, let a stranger show up, +an'--all aff'ble an' garyoolous--Monte's right thar to do the honors. +When the stranger, gettin' weary, kicks Monte off him, the same bein' +shore to happen final since no one formed in the image of his Maker +can put up with them verbal imbecil'ties of his beyond a given len'th +of time, he'll arch his back an'--apparently--wax that f'rocious a +wronged grizzly to him is as meek as milk. An' yet, as I tells you, +it's simply a blazer; an' the moment the exasperated stranger begins +betrayin' symptoms of goin' to a showdown, Monte lapses into his third +mood of haughty silence, an' struts off like it's beneath him to bandy +words. + +"That's the savin' clause in Monte's constitootion; he may get drunk, +but he never gets injoodicious. Thar's a sport from some'ers over +'round Shakespear in the dance hall one evenin', whose patience has +been plenty treespassed on by Monte. By way of bringin' matters to a +deecisive head, this yere Shakespear party tells Monte he's a liar. Do +you reckon Monte hooks up with him? Not a chance! He simply casts on +that maligner from Shakespear a look of disparagement, an' with nose +held high, as markin' his contempt, moves away with the remark. + +"'That's something I refooses to discuss with you.' + +"Which thar's no more real p'isin in Monte than in a hired girl. + +"We has the chance once to try some experiments on Monte, an' it's the +mistake of our lives we don't. Peets, whose regrets is scientific, +feels speshully acoote. Thar's a partic'lar bar'l of nosepaint gets +trundled into camp, which is nothin' short of bein' the condensed +essence of hostility. Black Jack, after years as barkeep, says himse'f +he never sees nothin' like it. On the hocks of two drinks, folks gets +that ornery Enright has it freighted back to Tucson in alarm, fearin' +for the peace of the camp. At the time, none of us thinks of it; but +later it's a subject of gen'ral regret that some of it ain't saved to +try on Monte. Mebby that speshul brand of licker turns out to be the +missin' ingreedient, an' keys him up to deeds of heroism. + +"Jest to show you some of the milder workin's of that licker. Boggs +files away four inches of it onder his belt, an' next, when he's +walkin' by the corral an' meets a Mexican, he reaches out in a +casyooal an' abstracted way, collars that Greaser an' hefts him over a +six-foot 'dobe fence, same as if he's a bag of bran; an' all apropos +of nothin'. Boggs says himse'f he don't know why none. He's thinkin' +of something else at the time, he declar's, an' the eepisode don't +leave no partic'lar traces on his mem'ry. The trooth is, it's that +veehement an' onmuzzled nosepaint, incitin' him to voylence. + +"Is the Mexican hurt? + +"Which, if I remembers rightly, Peets does mention about a busted +collarbone. But it don't create no interest--him bein' a Mexican. You +see, thar's a feelin', amountin' fa'rly to a onwritten law, that +Mexicans ain't got no rightful call to be seen in public no how; an' +when one does go pirootin' round permiscus, in voylation of this yere +tenet, nacherally he takes his chances. You-all can gamble, though, +that Boggs shore never would have reached for him, only he's +actchooated by that whiskey. + +"As modest an' retirin' a sperit as Cherokee, to whom any form of +boastful bluff is plumb reepellant, subscribes to a mod'rate snifter +of that licker; an' in less time than it takes to rope a pony, he's +out in front of the Red Light, onbucklin' in a display of pistol +shootin'. Thar's a brace of towerists in camp, an' Cherokee let's on +he'll show 'em. Which he shore shows 'em! He tosses two tomatter cans +on high, an' with a gun in each hand keeps 'em dancin' an' jumpin' +about in the atmosphere ontil thar's six bullets through each. It's a +heap satisfyin' as a performance, as far as them pop-eyed towerists is +concerned, an' both leaves town that evenin' by speshul buckboard. + +"Onaffected by that licker, Cherokee wouldn't have no more gone an' +made sech a spectacle of himse'f, though urged tharunto by the +yoonanimous voice of the outfit. When he so far recovers as to +'ppreeciate what Faro Nell has to say of them exploits--an', while +tender, she's plenty explicit--he comes mighty clost to blushin' +himse'f to death. + +"It's after we notes what it does to Cherokee, an' hears of them +exhibitions of broote force by Boggs, that we gets timid about this +yere whisky, an' Enright orders the bar'l sent back. An' right he is! +S'ppose them Red Dogs was to have come prancin' over for a social +call, an' s'ppose in entertainin' 'em we all inadvertent has recourse +to that partic'lar licker, whatever do you-all reckon 'd have been the +finish? Son, thar'd have been one of them things they calls a +catyclism, an' nothin' short. + +"It's shore a fightin' form of licker. Tutt reeserves out a tin cup of +it, an' sets it down by a prairie dog's hole. Accordin' to Tutt, the +dog comes out, laps it once, an' starts back same as if he's been shot +with a '45. Thar he squats, battin' his eyes, wrinklin' up his nose, +an' cogitatin'. After thinkin' the thing over, the dog approaches, +mighty gingerly, an' takes three or four more laps. Then he r'ars +back, an' considers for quite a spell. It looks final like he gets his +mind made up, an' with that he capers over, an' he'ps himse'f to what +for a prairie dog is shore a big drink. + +"Two minutes later, ha'r bristlin', whiskers standin' out like wire, +eyes full of determination, that dog crosses over to another dog who's +livin' neighbor to him, an' says--accordin' to Tutt: + +"'Wharever can I locate that coyote who's been domineerin' round yere +for mebby it's a month, harassin' folks into their holes? Whar's that +coyote at?' + +"Peets allers allows Tutt exaggerates, but havin' sampled that licker +some myse'f, I'm a long ride from bein' so shore. + +"That lack of war instinct in Monte ain't no speecific drawback. Him +drivin' stage that a-way, he ain't expected none to fight. The +hold-ups onderstands it, the company onderstands it, everybody +onderstands it. It's the law of the trail. That's why, when the stage +is stopped, the driver's never downed. Which if thar's money aboard, +an' the express outfit wants it defended, they slams on some sport to +ride shotgun that trip. It's for this shotgun speshulist to give the +route agents an argyooment. Which they're licensed to go bombardin' +each other ontil the goin' down of the sun. As for the driver, +however, the etikette simply calls for him to set his brake, an' all +peaceful hold his hands above his head. It's inside his rights, too, +accordin' to the rooles, for him to cuss out the hold-ups, an' call +'em all the hard names of which he's cap'ble; an' stage drivers, who +loves their art, spends their time between drinks practisin' new cuss +words, an' inventin' onheard of epithets, so as to be ready when dooty +an' o'casion calls. Havin' downed or driven off the shotgun sport, an' +seen the bottom of the express box, the hold-ups tells the stage +driver to pull his freight. Wharupon he picks up the reins, kicks free +the brake, lets fly a loorid an' final broadside of vitooperation--he +havin' carefully reeserved the same, by way of peroration--an' goes +his windin' way. + +"Wolfville's been on the map for most a year, when Monte first shows +up. In the beginnin', an' ontil we-all gets adjusted to him, he's +something of a bore. Leastwise, he ain't what you'd go so far as to +call a boon companion. When it dawns on us that he's plottin' to make +himse'f a permanency, it certainly does look for a spell that, what +with his consumption of nosepaint an' what with his turrific genius +for snorin', he's goin' to be a trifle more'n we can stand. + +"Does Monte snore? + +"Not to create ondoo excitement, the bar'foot onclothed trooth is that +his snorin' falls nothin' short of bein' sinful. Boggs has plenty of +countenance when he brings them snores to the attention of Enright. + +"'Thar's shore a limit somewhar, Sam,' Boggs says, 'to this yere +drunkard's right to snore. Which he's simply keepin' everybody over to +the O. K. House settin' up. Onless something's done to check him, +thar'll be a epidemic of St. Vitus dance. You ask Doc Peets; he'll +tell you that this yere Monte with his snorin' is a scourge.' + +"It's not alone their volume, but their quality, which makes them +snores of Monte so ondesir'ble. Some folks snores a heap deprecatory, +an' like they're apol'gizin' for it as they goes along. Others snores +in a manner ca'mly confident, an' all as though the idee that any gent +objects would astonish 'em to death. Still others snores plumb +deefiant, an' like they ain't snorin' so much for comfort, that +a-way, as to show their contempt for mankind. It's to this yere latter +hostile school that drunkard, Monte, belongs. + +"After Boggs lodges complaint, Enright takes a corrective peek into +the sityooation. Thar's two rooms over the O. K. kitchen, sort o' off +by themselves. Upon Enright's hint, Missis Rucker beds down Monte in +one, an' Deef Andy, who mends harness for the stage company an' can't +hear nothin', in the other. + +"'It's for the safety of your excellent car'vansary, Ma'am,' Enright +explains. 'Which Dan's mighty easy moved; an' some mornin', onless you +adopts them improvements, that somnolent sot you're harborin' 'll go +too far with Dan. I takes it you-all don't want the shack all smoked +up with Dan's six-shooter? In which event you'll put that reverberant +drunkard in the far-corner room, with Andy next.' + +"Peets once mentions a long-ago poet party, named Johnson, who, +speakin' of a fellow poet after he's dead an' down onder the +grass-roots, lets on that he teches nothin' he don't adorn. You can +go your ultimate simoleon that ain't Monte's style. The only things he +don't upset is bottles; the only flooid he never spills is licker. +This yere last would be ag'inst his religion. Wharever he goes, he's +otherwise draggin' his rope, an' half the time he's steppin' on it. + +"It's him that coaxes that onhappy Polish picture painter our way. +This yere is long after he's drivin' stage, an' as Wolfville's +offishul drunkard becomes a tol'rated feachure of the camp. This +Polish artist person is as much out o' place in Arizona as a faro +lay-out at a Sunday school picnic. Monte crosses up with him over at +Tucson in the Oriental S'loon, an' while thar's no ties between 'em, +more'n what nacherally forms between two gents who sets drinkin' +together all night long, before ever they're through with each other +that inspired inebriate lands the locoed artist party on our hands. +Enright shore does go the limit in rebookin' Monte. + +"'Why, Sam,' says Monte, an' he's that depreecatory he whines, 'I +allows you'll look on him as a acquisition.' + +"'All the same,' returns Enright, an' I never knows him more +forbiddin', 'yereafter please confine your annoyin' assidooities to +drivin' stage, an' don't go tryin' to improve the outlook of this +camp.' + +"Monte, with this, gets that dismal he sheds tears. 'Which it shore +looks like I can't do nothin' right,' he sobs. + +"'Then don't,' says Enright. + +"From the start, Monte graves himse'f upon the mem'ry of folk as the +first sport, to onroll his blankets in Cochise County, who consoomes +normal over twenty drinks a day. Upon festal occasions like Noo +Year's, an' Christmas, an' Fo'th of Jooly, an' Thanksgivin', no gent +who calls himse'f a gent thinks of keepin' tabs on a fellow gent, no +matter how freequent he signs up to Black Jack. On gala o'casions, +sech as them noted, the bridle is plumb off the hoss, an' even though +you drinks to your capac'ty an' some beyond, no one's that vulgar as +to go makin' remarks. But that ain't Monte; he's different a heap. It +looks like every day is Fo'th of Jooly with him, he's that inveterate +in his reemorseless hankerin' for nosepaint. + +"Also, regyarded as to his social side, Monte, as I states former, is +a nooisance. Knowin' folks, too, is his fad. Only so you give him +licker enough, he'll go surgin' round accostin' every gent he sees. No +matter how austere a stranger is, Monte'll tackle him. An' at that he +never says nothin' worth hearin', an' in its total absence of +direction his conversation resembles nothin' so much as a dog chasin' +its tail. + +"An' then thar's them footile bluffs he's allers tryin' to run. He's +been pesterin' in an' out of the Red Light one evenin' ontil he's got +Black Jack incensed. As he comes squanderin' along, for say the +twentieth time, Black Jack groans, an' murmurs, + +"'Yere's that booze-soaked old hoss-thief ag'in!' + +"Monte gets the echo of it, same as folks allers does when it ain't +wanted, but he's onable to say who. So he stands thar by the bar, +glarin' 'round an' snortin'. Final, he roars: + +"'Who cuts loose that personal'ty?' + +"Thar ain't no answer, an' Monte ag'in takes to pitchin' on his rope. + +"'Show me the galoot who insults me,' he roars; 'let him no longer +dog it, but p'int himse'f out as the gent.' + +"'All right,' says Black Jack, whose indignation gets the best of his +reespons'bilities as barkeep, 'which I'm the party who alloodes to you +as a booze-soaked old hoss-thief.' + +"'An' so you're the gent,' says Monte, castin' a witherin' glance at +Black Jack; 'so you're the would-be sooicide who calls me a +booze-soaked old hoss-thief?' + +"'Which I'm the identical stingin' lizard. Now what is it you're so +plumb eager to say?' + +"'What am I eager to say? I merely wants to remark that you ain't done +nothin' to swell up over. You-all needn't go thinkin' you're the first +barkeep who calls me a booze-soaked old hoss-thief.' + +"Havin' la'nched this yere, Monte turns off as stiffly pompous as +though he ain't left a grease-spot of Black Jack. + +"When folks won't listen to him no longer, Monte goes bulgin' forth +into the highways an' the byways, an' holds long an' important +discussions with signs, an' dry-goods boxes, an' sim'lar inan'mate +elements of the landscape. Also, to mules an' burros. I remarks him +myse'f, whisperin' in the onregyardful y'ear of a burro, an' said +anamile as sound asleep as a tree. When that drunkard's through his +confidences, he backs off, an' wavin' his paw plumb myster'ous at the +burro says: + +"'Remember, now; I'm givin' you this yere p'inter as a friend.' + +"That time Black Jack offends Monte, after the latter hits the +sidewalk followin' what he clar'ly considers is his crushin' come-back +on Black Jack, he gets the feelin' that Jack's ha'ntin' along on his +trail. Before he's gone fifty foot, he w'irls about, an' shouts: + +"'Don't you-all follow me! Which, if you crowds me, them places that +has knowed you won't know you no more forever.' + +"When Monte gets off this menace, it seems like the Black Jack specter +becomes intim'dated, an' tries to squar' itse'f. + +"'What's that?' Monte asks, after listenin' mighty dignified to the +spook's excuses; 'you begs my pardon? Not another word. If you-all +keeps on talkin' now you'll sp'ile it. Thar's my hand,' givin' the +fingers of the phantom a mighty earnest squeeze. 'I'm your friend, an' +that goes.' + +"Havin' established a peace, Monte insists that the Black Jack phantom +b'ar him company to the O. K. Restauraw. In spite of all Missis Rucker +can say or do, he plants the spook at the table, feeds it on the best +that's in the kitchen, an' all as confident as if it's shorely troo. +Also, he insists on payin' for two. + +"When Missis Rucker tries to show him he's down wrong, he refooses to +have it that way. + +"'Do you-all reckon, Ma'am, that I can't trust my eyes none?' he +demands. 'Which you'll tell me next that them airtights I tops of with +is figments.' + +"'But thar's only one of you-all,' Missis Rucker persists. + +"'Ma'am,' returns Monte, his manner plumb s'picious, 'I don't jest +quite sense your little game. Whatever it is, however, you-all can't +play it on old Monte. You write back to my fam'ly an' the neighbors, +an' the least flatterin' among 'em'll tell you that I'm as cunnin' as +a squinch owl. Thar's two of us who feeds, an' for two of us I +settles. Bein' a woman, you're too feeble-witted for reason, too +mendacious for trooth.' + +"'Don't you go callin' me no woman,' says Missis Rucker, her eyes +snappin', 'onless you're ready to cash in.' + +"'Women!' repeats Monte, sort o' addressin' the scenery, but still +plenty cynical, 'what be they except a fleetin' show to man's +deloosion given. Also, thar's nothin' to 'em. You opens their front +door, an' you're in their back yard.' + +"Texas has been givin' y'ear to the talk. It's before his Laredo wife +starts ropin' for that divorce; but she's already makin' war medicine, +an' the signs an' signal smokes which p'int to an uprisin' is vis'ble +on every hill. Texas is careful not to let Missis Rucker hear him +none, but as he walks away, he mutters: + +"'That ghost-seein' sport's got the treemors, but all the same I +strings with him on them estimates of ladies.' + +"Texas is that fav'rably affected about Monte, he talks things over +with Tutt, who himse'f ain't married to Tucson Jennie none as yet. +Them nuptials, an' that onbiased blessin', little Enright Peets Tutt, +who results tharfrom, comes along later. + +"'Which thar's good in that Monte maverick,' says Texas; 'only so we +could get the nosepaint out of him.' + +"'Now, I wouldn't wonder none, neither,' says Tutt. + +"'He drinkt up two quarts an' a half yesterday,' says Texas. + +"'Ain't thar no steps which can be took?' Tutt asks. 'Two quarts an' a +half, though, shore sounds like he's somethin' of a prop'sition.' + +"These yere remarks is made in the Red Light, an' Tutt an' Texas +appeals to Cherokee, whar that courtier of fortune is settin' in +behind his lay-out. Cherokee waves 'em off, p'lite but firm. + +"'Don't ask me none,' he says. 'You-all knows my doctrines. Let every +gent kill his own snakes.' + +"'That's my theology,' remarks Boggs, who has just come ramblin' in +from the Noo York store, whar he's been changin' in a bundle of money +for shirts; 'I recalls how, when I'm a prattlin' yearlin', hearin' +Parson Ed'ards of the Cambellite Church quotin' whar Cain gives it out +cold that he's not his brother's keeper; an' even at that onthinkin' +age I fully endorses Cain's p'sition.' + +"The talk takes in Black Jack, who, by virchoo of him bein' a barkeep, +nacherally savvys a heap about the licker question. Jack reelates how +a sot he knows back in Arkansaw is shocked into never takin' a drink, +by simply blowin' his hand off accidental while tanked up. + +"'Whang! goes the old Betsy,' says Jack, 'an' that slave to licker's +shy his left hand. "Which it lets me out!" he exclaims; an' datin' +from said catastrophy he'd no more tech nosepaint, that a-way, than +he'd join the church.' + +"'But it's doubtful,' observes Tutt, 'if Enright stands to let us +shoot this yere Monte drunkard's hand off.' + +"'It's ten to one he won't,' says Texas; 'still thar ought to be other +schemes for shockin' a party into moral'ty, which stops short o' +cripplin' him for life.' + +"'But is this yere inebriate worth the worry?' asks Boggs. 'Also, it +shore strikes me as mighty gratooitous for us to go reorganizin' the +morals of a plumb stranger, an' him not even asked.' + +"'Which he's worth the worry all right,' Texas replies. 'Thar's no +efforts too great, when thar's a chance to save a party who has the +same thorough onderstandin' of ladies which this gent has.' + +"Up over the Red Light bar is a stuffed bobcat, the same bein' held as +decorative. Only the day before Texas and Tutt stands talkin', a +couple of Enright's riders comes packin' a live bobcat into town, +which between 'em they ropes up over in the foothills of the Tres +Hermanas, an' jams labor'ously into a pa'r of laiggin's. The same idee +seizes on Texas an' Tutt yoonanimous. They sees that it only calls for +the intelligent use of that Bar-8 bobcat, which them cow-punchers of +Enright's ties down, to reegen'rate Monte, an' make him white as +snow. + +[Illustration: A COUPLE OF ENRIGHT'S RIDERS COMES A PACKIN' A LIVE BOBCAT +INTO TOWN. p. 118.] + +"Monte's ain't present none, bein' over to the O. K. House. By bein' +plumb painstakin', Tutt an' Texas gets a collar onto the captive Bar-8 +bobcat, an' chains him up over the Red Light bar, in place of the +stuffed bobcat, deeposed. The Bar-8 bobcat jumps off once or twict +before he learns, an' comes mighty clost to lynchin' himse'f. But +Black Jack is patient, an' each time pokes him back with a cha'r. +After mebby the third jump, it gets proned into the bobcat that thar's +nothin' in it for him to go hurlin' himse'f into space that a-way, an' +bein' saved from death by hangin' only through the cha'r-laig +meditations of Black Jack. Acceptin' this yere view, he stands pat on +his shelf. Likewise, he shore looks mighty vivid up thar, an' has got +that former stuffed predecessor of his beat four ways from the jack. + +"We're hankerin' around, now the Bar-8 bobcat's organized, waitin' for +Monte to come amblin' up, an' be reformed. + +"'An' you can gamble,' Tutt says, 'that the shock it'll throw into +him'll have a ben'ficial effect. Shootin' off a hand or so ain't in it +with the way that drunkard's goin' to feel.' + +"'That's the way I figgers,' Texas remarks. 'One glance at that +bobcat, him on the verge of the treemors, an' thar'll a thrill go +through his rum-soaked frame like the grace of heaven through a camp +meetin'. For one, I antic'pate most excellent effects. Whatever do you +think, Doc?' + +"'Whatever do I think?' Peets repeats. 'Which I thinks that, as the +orig'nators of this yere cure for the licker habit, it'll be up to you +an' Dave to convey the patient to his room at the O. K. House, as soon +as ever you can control his struggles.' + +"Monte at last heaves in sight, an' comes shiverin' up to the bar, +every nerve as tight as a fiddle string. Black Jack shoves him the +bottle. + +"'What stuffed anamile sharp,' says Tutt, craftily directin' himself +at Black Jack, 'mounts that bobcat up thar?' + +"Monte nacherally raises his eyes. Thar's that Bar-8 feline, +half-crouched, glarin' down on him with green eyes, big as moons. + +"That settles it. + +"Monte gives a yell which they hears in Red Dog. Wharupon the bobcat, +takin' it for a threatenin' deemonstration, onfolds in an answerin' +yell, an' makes a scramblin' jump at Monte's head. Shore, he don't +land none, bein' brought up short, like a roped pony. Thar he swings, +cussin' an' spittin' an' clawin', as mad as a drunken squaw, an' +begins all over to hang himse'f afresh. + +"Monte? + +"That victim of appetite falls to the floor as dead an' flat as a wet +December leaf. + +"Actin' on them instructions, Tutt an' Texas picks Monte up an' packs +him across to Peets, who, after fussin' over him for mebby an hour, +brings him round s'fficient so he goes from one convulsion into +another, in what you-all might deescribe as an endless chain of fits. +Thar's nothin' to it; Peets is indoobitable the best equipped drug +sharp that ever breaks loose in Arizona. At that, while Monte lives, +he don't but jest. He's shore close enough at one time to kingdom come +to hear the singin'. + +"For two weeks Monte's boilin' an' boundin' round in his blankets, +Texas an' Tutt, feelin' a heap reemorseful, standin' watch and watch. +It's decided that no more attempts to reform him will be made, him +bein'--accordin' to Peets--too far gone that a-way. + +"'He's plumb onreform'ble,' explains Peets; 'whiskey's got to be so +much a second nacher with him, that the only way you-all could cure +him now is kill him.' + +"By way of partial rep'ration for what he suffers, as soon as Monte +can ag'in move about, Enright calls a meetin' of the camp, an' +dooly commissions him 'Offishul Drunkard,' with a absoloote an' +non-reevok'ble license to go as far as he likes. + +"'This yere post of offishul drunkard,' Enright explains to the +meetin', 'carries with it no money, no power, an' means only that he's +free to drink from dark to daylight an' to dark ag'in, oncriticized, +onreproved, an' onsaved. Colonel Sterett imparts to us in the last +_Daily Coyote_ how them Hindoos has their sacred cobras. Cobras not +bein' feas'ble none in Arizona, Wolfville in loo of sech accepts old +Monte. Yereafter, w'arin' the title of offishul drunkard, he takes his +place in the public regyard as Wolfville's sacred cobra.' + +"When Monte learns of his elevation, his eyes fills up with gratified +pride, an' as soon as ever he's able to stand the w'ar an' t'ar, he +goes on a protracted public drunk, by way of cel'bration, while we +looks tol'rantly on. + +"'Gents,' he says, 'I thanks you. Yereafter the gnawin' tooth of +conscience will be dulled, havin' your distinguished endorsement so to +do. Virchoo is all right in its place. But so is vice. The world +can't all be good an' safe at one an' the same time. Which if we all +done right, an' went to the right, we'd tip the world over. Half has +got to do wrong an' go to the left, to hold things steady. That's me; +I was foaled to do wrong an' go to the left. It's the only way in +which a jealous but inscroot'ble Providence permits me to serve my +hour. Offishul drunkard! Ag'in I thanks you. Which this yere's the way +I long have sought, an' mourned because I found it not, long meter.' + +"Boggs is the only gent who takes a gloomy view. + +"'That's fine for this yere egreegious Monte,' says Boggs, talkin' to +Enright; 'as Wolfville's pet drunkard an' offishul cobra, he's mighty +pleasantly provided for. But how about the camp? Whar does Wolfville +come in? We're a strong people; but does any gent pretend that we +possesses the fortitoode reequired to b'ar up through all the comin' +rum-soaked years?--an' all onder the weight of this yere onmatched +inebriate, whom by our own act an' as offishul drunkard, we onmuzzles +in our shrinkin' midst? Gents, this thing can't last.' + +"'Not necessar'ly, Dan,' retorts Enright, his manner trenchin' on the +cold; 'not necessar'ly. Let me expound the sityooation. I need not +remind you-all that Sand Creek Riley, who drives the Tucson stage, +gets bumped off the other evenin', while preeposterously insistin' +that aces-up beats three-of-a-kind. Realizin' the trooth of half what +you has said, Dan, I this evenin' enters into strategic reelations +with the stage company's agent; an' as a reesult, an' datin' from now +on, old Monte will be hired to fill the place of Sand Creek Riley, +whom we all regrets. It's hardly reequired that I p'int out the +benefits of this yere arrangement. As stage driver, old Monte for +every other night will get sawed off on Tucson. An' I misjedges the +vitality of this camp if, with the pressure on it thus relieved, an' +Tucson carryin' half the load, it's onable to live through. In my +opinion, Dan, by the light of this explanation, you at least oughter +hope for the best.' + +"'That's whatever!' says Boggs, who's plumb convinced; 'if I'd waited +ontil you was heard, Sam, I'd never voiced them apprehensions. But the +fact is, this yere Monte cobra of ours, with his bibbin's an' his +guzzlin's, has redooced me to a condition of nervous prostration. It's +all right now. Which I will say, however, that I can't reeflect none +without a shudder on what them Tucson folks'll say an' think, so soon +as ever they wakes up to what's been played on 'em.'" + + + + +V + +HOW THE MOCKING BIRD WAS WON + + +"Myst'ries? + +"We lives surrounded by 'em. Look whar you will, nacher has a ace +buried. Take dogs, now: Why is it when one of 'em, daylight or dark, +cuts the trail of a anamile, he never makes the fool mistake of +back-trackin' it, but is shore to run his game the way it's movin'? +There must be some kind of head-an'-tail to the scent, that a-way, to +give the dog the hunch. Myst'ry!--all myst'ry! The more a gent goes +messin' 'round for s'lootions, the more he's taught hoomility an' that +he ain't knee-high to toads. + +"An' yet when it comes to things myster'ous everything else is bound +to go to the diskyard compared to a lady's heart. Of course, I speaks +only in a sperit of philos'phy, an' not as one who's suffered. I never +myse'f am able pers'nal to approach closter to a lady's heart than +across the street. Peets once reemarks that all trails leads to Rome. +In that business of trails a lady's heart has got Rome left standin' +sideways. Not only does every trail lead tharunto, but thar's sech a +thing as goin' cross-lots. Take gettin' in love; thar's as many ways +as cookin' eggs. While you'll see gents who goes skallyhootin' into +that dulcet condition as straight as a arrer, thar's others who sidles +in, an' still others who backs in. I even knows a boy who shoots his +way in. + +"Which the lady in this case is the Mockin' Bird. That Mockin' Bird +maiden has wooers by onbounded scores, but holds herse'f as shy an' as +much aloof as if she's a mountain sheep. Not one can get near enough +to her to give her a ripe peach. Along comes the eboolient Turkey +Track, bulges headlong into her dest'nies, takes to menacin' at her +with a gun an', final, to bombardin' her outright, an'--love an' heart +an' hand--she comes a-runnin'. + +"Wolfville's without that last evidence of advancement, a callaboose. +It bein' inconvenient to shoot up or lynch everybody who infringes our +rooles, Jack Moore invents a convincin' but innocuous punishment for +minor offenders. Endorsed by Enright, he established a water +trough--it's big enough to swim a dog--over by the windmill; an' when +some perfervid cow-puncher, sufferin' from a overdose of nosepaint, +takes to aggravatin' 'round Moore swashes him about in the trough some +profoose, ontil he gives his word to live a happier an' a better +life. + +"It's like magic the way that water trough works. No matter how gala +some pronghorn of a cowboy may feel, it shore lets the whey out of +him. Given the most voylent, it's only a matter of minutes before he's +soaked into quietood. Enright himse'f says Moore's entitled to a +monyooment for the idee. + +"Turkey Track's name is Ford, Tom Ford, but workin' that a-way for the +Turkey Track outfit he nacherally gets renamed for the brand. Turkey +Track an' two boon companions has been goin' to an' fro from the Red +Light to the Dance Hall, ontil by virchoo of a over-accumyoolation of +licker they're beginnin' to step some high. Also, they takes to +upliftin' their tired souls with yells, an' blazin' away at froote +cans with their six-shooters. + +"It gets so that Enright tells Moore to give 'em a call-down. + +"'What them boys does,' says Enright, 'is done harmless an' +light-hearted to be shore, an' nothin' radic'lly wrong is either +aimed at or meant; but all the same, Jack, it's no more'n proodence +to go knock their horns off. It ain't what them yooths is doin', but +what they may be led to do, which makes the danger. It's like old +Deacon Sopris at the Cumberland Methodist class meetin' says of +kyard-playin'. "It ain't," explains the deacon, "that thar's any harm +in the children playin' seven-up around the kitchen table of a +winter's evenin' for grains of corn, but seven-up persisted in is +shore to lead to dancin'." An' so with these young merry-makers. +They'll keep on slamin' away at empty bottles an' former tomatter cans +that a-way, ontil the more seedate element objects, an' somebody gets +downed. Don't you agree with me, Doc?' + +"'Nothin' shorer!' says Peets. + +"Moore corrals Turkey Track an' his fellow revellers, an' tosses off a +few fiats. + +"'Quit that whoopin' an' shootin', boys,' says Moore. 'Likewise, keep +your hardware in your belts, as more deecorous. So shore as I finds a +gun in any of your hands ag'in, I'll shoot it out.' + +"Turkey Track an' his _compadres_ don't say nothin' back. They savvys +about the water trough, an' ain't hungerin' none to have their ardor +dampened in no sech fashion. So they blinks an' winks like a passel of +squinch owls, but never onbuckles in no argyooment. All the same, it +irks 'em a whole lot, an' after Moore reetires they begins mod'rate to +arch their necks an' expand 'round a little. + +"They allows--talkin' among themselves in a quer'lous way--that they +ain't hurtin' no one, an' for Moore to come shovin' 'round an' +lecturin' on etiquette is a conceited exhibition of authority as +offensive as it is onjest. Thar's doubts, too, about it's bein' +constitootional. + +"'Whatever does that jim-crow sp'ile-sport of a marshal mean?' says +Turkey Track. 'It looks like he's not only deefyin' the organic law of +this country, but puttin' on a heap of dog. Does he reckon this yere +camp's a church?' + +"'I moves we treats them mandates,' says one of the boys, who's a +rider for the G-bar ranch, 'with merited contempt.' + +"'As how?' asks the third, who belongs with the Four-J brand. 'You +ain't so locoed as to s'ggest we-all t'ars person'ly into this Jack +Moore marshal none I hopes?' + +"'Which you fills me with disgust!' says the other, nettled at the +idee of pawin' the onprofit'ble grass 'round Moore; 'but whatever's +the matter with goin' up to the far end of the street, an' w'irl an' +come squanderin' back jest a shootin'?' + +"'Great!' says Turkey Track, applaudin' the scheme. 'Which we-all +nacherally shoots up their old prairie dog town, same as if it's a +Mexican plaza, an' then jogs on to our ranches, all triumphant an' +comfortable.' + +"The three rides up to the head of the street, an' then turns +an'--givin' their ponies the steel--comes whizzin' down through the +center of eevents, yelpin' like Apaches an' lookin' like fireworks. +They've got a gun in each hand, an' they shakes the flame an' smoke +out of 'em same as three volcanoes on hossback. + +"Moore's standin' in front of the Noo York store, talkin' to Tutt. As +you-all might imagine, it frets him to the quick to see how little +them effervescent sperits cares for his injunctions. By way of +rebooke--not wantin' to down 'em outright for what, take it the worst +way, ain't nothin' more heen'ous than a impropriety--Moore gets his +artillery to b'ar, an' as they flashes by like comets, opens on the +ponies. It's hard on the ponies; but it won't do to let them young +roysterers get away with their play. The example'll spread; an', +onless checked at the jump, inside of a month thar'd be nothin' but a +whoopin' procession of cow-punchers chargin' up an' down the +causeways. Tenderfeet might acquire misgivin's techin' us bein' a +peaceful camp, an' the thing op'rate as a blow to trade. It's become a +case of either get the boys or get the ponies, an' onder the +circumstances the ponies has the call. + +"Thar's no more artistic gun-player than Moore in town, onless it's +Cherokee, an' mebby Doc Peets, who's a heap soon with a derringer. As +the ponies flash by, Moore's six-shooter barks three times. Two ponies +goes rollin'; the third--it's Turkey Track's--continyoos cavortin' +down the street an' out of town. Turkey Track never pulls up nor looks +back. The last we sees of him is when he's two miles away, an' a +swell rises up behind him an' hides him from view. + +"The G-bar boy, an' him from the Four-J outfit, hits the grass twenty +feet ahead of their ponies, like a roll of blankets chucked out of a +wagon, an' after bumpin' an' tumblin' along for a rod or so, an' all +mighty condoosive to fractures an' dislocations, they flattens out +reespective same as a couple of cancelled postage stamps. Shore, the +fall jolts the savvy plumb out of 'em. + +"Bein' they're stretched out an' passive, Moore collects 'em an' sops +'em up an' down in the water trough for mebby it's fifteen minutes. +Which they're reesus'tated an' reeproved at one an' the same time. +When them yooths comes to, they're a model to angels. To be shore, +their intellects don't shine out at first none like the sun at noon, +but continyoos blurred for hours. Even as late as the weddin' of +Turkey Track with the Mockin' Bird--an' that ain't for all of eight +weeks--the G-bar boy informs Boggs confidenshul, as they're takin' a +little licker all sociable, that speakin' mental he's as yet a heap in +eeclipse. + +"The maiden name of the Mockin' Bird is Loocinda Gildersleeve, but +pop'lar pref'rence allers sticks to her stage title. She's a fav'rite +at the Bird Cage Op'ry House, at which nursery of the drammy she's +been singin' off an' on for somethin' like three years. She's a +shore-enough singer, too, the Mockin' Bird is. None of your yeepin's +an' peepin's, none of your mice squeaks an' tea-kettle tones an' cub +coyote yelps. Which she's got a round, meelod'yous bellow like a hound +in full cry, an' while she's singin' thar ain't a wolf'll open his +mouth within a mile of town. Which them anamiles is plumb abashed, the +Mockin' Bird outholdin' 'em to that degree. + +"You-all don't hear no sech singin' in the East. Thar ain't room; an' +moreover the East's too timid. For myse'f, an' I ain't got no y'ear +for music, them top notes of the Mockin' Bird, like the death yell of +a mountain lion, is cap'ble of givin' me the fantods; while the way +she hands out 'Home, Sweet Home' an' 'Suwannee River,' an' her voice +sort o' diggin' down into the soul, sets eemotional sports like Boggs +an' Black Jack to sobbin' as though their hearts is broke. She's +certainly a jo-darter of a vocalist--the Mockin' Bird is, an' once +when she renders 'Loosiana Loo' an' Boggs's more'n common affected, he +offers to bet yellow chips as high as the ceilin' she can sing the +sights off a Colt's .45. + +"'Which I enjoys one of the most mis'rable evenin's of my c'reer,' +says Boggs to Faro Nell, when she expresses sympathy at him feelin' so +cast down. 'I wouldn't have missed it for a small clay farm.' + +"'_Yo tambien_' says Black Jack, who's keepin' Boggs melancholly +company while he weeps. 'Only I reckons the odd kyard in my own case +is that, before I'm a man an' in some other existence, I used to be +one of these yere ornery little fice dogs, which howls every time it +hears a pianny. It's some left-over vestiges of that life when I'm a +dog which sets me to bawlin', that a-way, whenever the Mockin' Bird +girl sings. I experiences pensive sensations, sim'lar to what comes +troopin' over a gent, who's libatin' alone, on the heels of the third +drink.' + +"The Mockin' Bird looks as sweet as she sings. I mentions long ago +about the phil'sophic old stoodent who says, 'They do say love is +blind, but I'll be ding-danged if some gents can't see more in their +girls than I can.' This yere wisdom don't apply none to the Mockin' +Bird. Them wooers of hers, to say nothin' of Turkey Track, possesses +jestification for becomin' so plumb maudlin'. Lovely? She's as pretty +as a cactus flower, or a sunrise on the staked plains. + +"Folks likes her, too. Take that evenin' when a barbarian from over +to'ards the Cow Springs cuts loose to disturb the exercises at the +Bird Cage Op'ry House with a measly fling or two. The public well nigh +beefs him. They'd have shore put him over the jump, only Enright +interferes. + +"It's doorin' the openin' scene, when the actors is camped 'round in a +half-circle, facin' the fiddlers. Huggins, who manages the Bird Cage, +an' who's the only hooman who ever consoomes licker, drink for drink, +with Monte, an' lives to tell the tale, is in the middle. Bowin' to +the Mockin' Bird, an' as notice that she's goin' to carol some, he +announces: + +"'The world-reenowned cantatrice, Mam'selle Loocinda Gildersleeve, +cel'brated in two hemispheres as the Mockin' Bird of Arizona, will now +sing the ballad wharwith she ravished the y'ears of every crowned +head of Europe, the same bein' that pop'lar air from the op'ry of +_Loocretia Borgia_, "Down in the Valley."' + +"At this that oncooth crim'nal from the Cow Springs gets up: + +"'The Mockin' Bird of Arizona which you-all is bluffin' about,' he +shouts, 'can't sing more'n a burro, an' used to sling hash in a +section house over by Colton.' + +"'Never the less, notwithstandin',' replies Huggins, who's too drunk +to feel ruffled, 'Mam'selle Loocinda Gildersleeve, known to all the +world as the Mockin' Bird of Arizona, will now sing "Down in the +Valley."' + +"Huggins would have let things go at that, but not so the Wolfville +pop'lace. In the cockin' of a winchester they swoops down on that Cow +Springs outcast like forty hen-hawks on a single quail, an' as I +yeretofore observes, if it ain't for Enright they'd have made him +shortly hard to find. You can gamble, the Cow Springs savage never +does go out on that limb ag'in. + +"While Turkey Track escapes the water trough, an' makes his getaway +that time all right, the pore pony ain't got by Moore onscathed. The +bullet hits him jest to the r'ar of the saddle-flap, an' out about a +brace of miles he stumbles over dead. + +"It's yere eevents begins to fall together like a shock of oats. The +Mockin' Bird's been over entrancin' Tucson, an' the reg'lar stage with +Monte not preecisely dove-tailin' with her needs, she charters a +speshul buckboard to get back. Thar's a feeble form of hooman ground +owl drivin' her, one of these yere parties who's all alkali an' hard +luck, an' as deevoid of manly sperit as jack-rabbits onweaned. + +"This yere ground owl party, drivin' for the Mockin' Bird, comes +clatterin' along with the buckboard jest as Turkey Track strips the +saddle an' bridle from his deefunct pony. Turkey Track is not without +execyootive ability, an' seein' he's afoot an' thirty miles from his +home ranch, he pulls his gun an' sticks up the buckboard plenty +prompt. At the mere sight of a weepon the hands of that young +owl-person goes searchin' for stars, an' he's beggin' Turkey Track not +to rub him out--him thinkin' it's a reg'lar hold-up. That's all the +opp'sition thar is, onless you counts the reemarks of the Mockin' +Bird, who becomes both bitter an' bitin' in equal parts, but has no +more effect on Turkey Track--an' him afoot that a-way--than pourin' +water on a drowned rat. Shore, a cow-puncher'd fight all day, an' even +face a enraged female, before he'd walk a hour. + +[Illustration: TURKEY TRACK, SEEIN' HE'S AFOOT AN' THIRTY MILES FROM HIS +HOME RANCH PULLS HIS GUN AN' STICKS UP THE MOCKIN' BIRD'S BUCKBOARD. +p. 138.] + +"Turkey Track piles his saddle an' bridle onto the r'ar of the +buckboard, an' settin' in behind on his plunder, commands the ground +owl driver to head west till further orders. Likewise, he so far +onbends as to say that them orders won't be deecem'nated, none +whatever, ontil he's landed at the Turkey Track home ranch. Since he +backs this yere programme with his artillery, the ground owl ain't got +nothin' to say, an' it's no time when the outfit's weavin' along a +side trail in the sole int'rests of Turkey Track. + +"What's worse, to dispell the ennui of sech a trip, an' drive away +dull care, Turkey Track takes to despotizin' over the Mockin' Bird +with his six-shooter, an' compels her to sing constant throughout them +thirty miles. He makes her carrol everythin' from 'Old Hundred' to +'Turkey in the Straw,' an' then brings her back to 'Old Hundred' an' +starts her over. The pore harassed Mockin' Bird, what with the dust, +an' what with Turkey Track tyrannizin' at her with his gun, sounds +final like an ongreased wheelbarrow which has seen better days. She +don't get her voice ag'in for mighty clost to a month, an' even then, +as she says herse'f, thar's places where the rivets reequires +tightenin'. + +"It's pressin' onto eight weeks before ever Turkey Track is heard of +'round town ag'in. Also, it's in the Bird Cage Op'ry House he hits the +surface of his times. The Mockin' Bird has jest done drove the vocal +picket-pin of 'Old Kentucky Home,' when, bang! some loonatic shoots at +her. Which the bullet bores a hole in the scenery not a foot above her +head. + +"Every one sees by the smoke whar that p'lite attention em'nates from, +an' before you could count two, Moore, Boggs, an' Texas Thompson has +convened themselves on top of that ident'cal spot. Thar sets Turkey +Track, cryin' like a child. + +"'It's no use, gents,' he sobs, the tears coursin' down his cheeks, +'she's so plumb bewitchin', an' I adores her so, I simply has to blaze +away or bust.' + +"While he don't harm the Mockin' Bird none, the sent'ment of the +Stranglers, when Enright raps 'em to order inform'ly at the Red Light +an' Black Jack has organized the inspiration, favors hangin' Turkey +Track. Even Texas, who loathes ladies by reason of what's been sawed +off onto him in the way of divorce an' alimony, that a-way, by his +Laredo wife, is yoonan'mous for swingin' him off. + +"'That I don't believe in marryin' 'em,' says Texas, expoundin' his +p'sition concernin' ladies in answer to Boggs who claims he's +inconsistent, 'don't mean I wants 'em killed. But you never was no +logician, Dan.' + +"Cherokee's the only gent who's inclined to softer attitoodes, an' +that leeniency is born primar'ly of the inflooence of Nell. Nell is +plumb romantic, an' when she hears how the Turkey Track's been +enfiladin' at the Mockin' Bird only because he loves her, while she +don't reely know what she does want done with that impossible +cow-puncher, she shore don't want him hanged. + +"'It's sech a interestin' story!' says Nell, an' then capers across to +Missis Rucker an' Tucson Jennie to c'llect their feelin's. + +"Moore brings in Turkey Track. + +"'Be you-all tryin' to blink out this yere young lady?' asks Enright, +'or is that gun play in the way of applause?' + +"'It's love,' protests Turkey Track, his voice chokin'; 'it's simply a +cry from the soul. I learns to love her that day on the buckboard +while I'm lookin' at her red ha'r, red bein' my winnin' color. Gents, +you-all won't credit it none, but jest the same them auburn tresses +gets wropped about my heart.' + +"'Whatever do you make of it, Doc?' whispers Enright. + +"'This boy,' returns Peets, 'has got himse'f too much on his own mind. +He's sufferin' from what the books calls exaggerated ego.' + +"'That's one way of bein' locoed, ain't it?' + +"'Shore. But him bein' twisted mental ain't no reason for not adornin' +the windmill with his remains. The only public good a hangin' does is +to scare folks up a lot, an' you can scare a loonatic quite as quick +an' quite as hard as a gent whose intellects is plumb.' + +"'Thar she stands,' Turkey Track breaks in ag'in, not waitin' for no +questions, 'an' me as far below her as stingin' lizards is from stars! +Then, ag'in, when folks down in front is a'plaudin' her, she wavin' +at 'em meanwhile the gracious smile, it makes me jealous. Gents, I +don't plan nothin', but the first I knows I lugs out the old .45 an' +onhooks it.' + +"The Mockin' Bird has come over from the O. K. House with Nell, Missis +Rucker an' Tucson Jennie. As she hears Turkey Track's confession two +drops shows in her eyes like diamonds. Clutchin' hold of Nell, an' +with Missis Rucker an' Tucson Jennie flockin' along in the r'ar, she +rushes out the front door. + +"This manoover leaves us some upset, ontil Nell returns to explain. + +"'She's overcome by them disclosures,' says Nell, 'an' goes outside to +blush.' + +"'The ontoward breaks of that songstress,' observes Enright oneasily, +'has a tendency to confoose the issue, an' put this committee in the +hole.' + +"'Thar's nothin' confoosin' about it, Sam Enright.' It's Missis Rucker +who breaks out high an' threatenin', she havin' come back with Nell. +'This yere Mockin' Bird girl's in love with that gun-playin' cowboy, +an' it's only now she finds it out. Do you-all murderers still insist +on hangin' this yere boy, or be you willin' to see 'em wed an' live +happy ever after?' + +"'Let's rope up a divine some'ers,' exclaims Boggs, 'an' have 'em +married. If that Mockin' Bird girl wants Turkey Track she shall shore +have him. I'd give her his empty head on a charger, if she asks it, +same as that party in holy writ, she singin' "Suwannee River" like she +does.' + +"Cherokee, who's more or less rooled by Nell, thinks a weddin' the +proper step, an' Tutt, who sees somethin' in Tucson Jennie's eye, +declar's himse'f some hasty. + +"Even Texas backs the play. + +"'But make no mistake,' says Texas; 'I insists on wedlock over +lynchin' only because it's worse.' + +"'Which it's as well, Sam Enright,' observes Missis Rucker, blowin' +through her nose mighty warlike, 'that you an' your marauders has +sense enough to see your way through to that deecision. Which if you'd +failed, I'd have took this Turkey Track boy away from you-all with my +own hands. This Vig'lance Committee needn't think it's goin' to do as +it pleases 'round yere--hangin' folks for bein' in love, an' closin' +its y'ears to the moans of a bleedin' heart.' + +"'My dear ma'am,' says Enright, his manner mollifyin'; 'I sees nothin' +to discuss. The committee surrenders this culprit into the hands of +you-all ladies, an' what more is thar to say?' + +"'Thar's this more to say,' an' Missis Rucker's that earnest her mouth +snaps like a trap. 'You an' your gang, settin' round like a passel of +badgers, don't want to get it into your heads that you're goin' to run +rough-shod over me. When I gets ready to have my way in this outfit, +the prairie dog that stands in my path'll shore wish he'd never been +born.' + +"Enright don't say nothin' back, an' the balance of us maintainin' a +dignified silence, Missis Rucker, after a look all 'round, withdraws, +takin' with her Tucson Jennie an' Nell, Turkey Track in their midst. + +"'Gents,' observes Enright, when they're shore departed, an' speakin' +up deecisive, 'ways must be deevised to 'liminate the feminine element +from these yere meetin's. I says this before, but the idee don't seem +to take no root. Thar's nothin' lovelier than woman, but by virchoo +of her symp'thies she's oncap'ble of exact jestice. Her feelin's lead +her, an' her heart's above her head. For which reasons, while I +wouldn't favor nothin' so ondignified as hidin' out, I s'ggests that +we be yereafter more circumspect, not to say surreptitious, in our +deelib'rations.' + +"Shore, they're married. The cer'mony comes off in the O. K. House, +an' folks flocks in from as far away as Deming. + +"'If you was a chemist, Sam,' says Peets, tryin' to eloocidate what +happens when the Mockin' Bird learns she's heart-hungry that a-way for +Turkey Track, 'you'd onderstand. It's as though her love's held in +s'lootion, an' the jar of Turkey Track's gun preecip'tates it.' + +"'Mebby so,' returns Enright; 'but as a play, this thing's got me +facin' back'ards. Thar's many schemes to win a lady, but this yere's +the earliest instance when a gent shoots his way into her arms.' + +"'Well,' returns Peets, 'you know the old adage--to which of course +thar's exceptions.' Yere he glances over at Missis Rucker. 'It runs: + + "A woman, a spaniel an' a walnut tree, + The more you beat 'em the better they be." + +"Boggs has been congratchoolatin' Turkey Track, an' kissin' the bride. +Texas, as somber as a spade flush, draws Boggs into a corner. + +"'That Turkey Track,' says Texas, 'considers this a whipsaw. He misses +hangin', an' he gets the lady. He feels like he wins both ways. Wait! +Dan, it won't be two years when he'll discover that, compar'd to +marriage, hangin' that a-way ain't nothin' more'n a technical'ty.'" + + + + +VI + +THAT WOLFVILLE-RED DOG FOURTH + + +"By nacher I'm a patriot, cradle born and cradle bred; my Americanism, +second to none except that of wolves an' rattlesnakes an' Injuns an' +sim'lar cattle, comes in the front door an' down the middle aisle; an' +yet, son, I'm free to reemark that thar's one day in the year, an' +sometimes two, when I shore reegrets our independence, an' wishes thar +had been no Yorktown an' never no Bunker Hill." + +The old cattleman tasted his glass with an air weary to the borders of +dejection; after which he took a pathetic puff at his pipe. I knew +what had gone wrong. This was the Fifth of July. We had just survived +a Fourth of unusual explosiveness, and the row and racket thereof had +worn threadbare the old gentleman's nerves. + +"Yes, sir," he continued, shoving a 'possum-colored lock back from his +brow, "as I suffers through one of them calamities miscalled +cel'brations, endoorin' the slang-whangin' of the orators an' bracin' +myse'f ag'inst the slam-bangin' of the guns, to say nothin' of the +firecrackers an' kindred Chinese contraptions, I a'preeciates the +feelin's of that Horace Walpole person Colonel Sterett quotes in his +_Daily Coyote_ as sayin', 'I could love my country, if it ain't for my +countrymen.' + +"Still, comin' down to the turn, I reckon it merely means, when all is +in, that I'm gettin' too plumb old for comfort. It's five years now +since I dare look in the glass, for fear I'd be tempted to count the +annyooal wrinkles on my horns. + +"It's mighty queer about folks. Speakin' of cel'brations, for +thousands of years the only way folks has of expressin' any feelin' of +commoonal joy, that a-way, is to cut loose in limitless an' onmeanin' +uproar. Also, their only notion of a public fest'val is for one half +of the outfit to prance down the middle of the street, while the other +half banks itse'f ag'inst the ediotic curb an' looks at 'em. + +"People in the herd ain't got no intelligence. We speaks of the lower +anamiles as though we just has it on 'em completely in the matter of +intelligence, but for myse'f I ain't so shore. The biggest fool of a +mule-eared deer savvys enough to go feedin' up the wind, makin' so to +speak a skirmish line of its nose to feel out ambushes. Any old bull +elk possesses s'fficient wisdom to walk in a half-mile circle, as a +concloodin' act before reetirin' for the night, so that with him +asleep in the center, even if the wind does shift, his nose'll still +get ample notice of whatever man or wolf may take to followin' his +trail. + +"That's what them 'lower anamiles' does. An' now I asks, what man, +goin' about his numbskull dest'nies, lookin' as plumb wise as a +too-whoo owl at noon, ever shows gumption equal to keepin' the +constant wind in his face, or has the sense to go walkin' round +himse'f as he rolls into his blankets, same as that proodent elk? +After all, I takes it that these yere Fo'th of Jooly upheavals is only +one among the ten thousand fashions in which hoomanity eternally +onbuckles in expressin' its imbecil'ty. + +"Which I certainly do get a heap disgusted at times with the wild +beast called man. With all his bluffs about bein' so mighty sagacious, +I can sit yere an' see that, speakin' mental, he ain't better than an +even break with turkey gobblers. Even what he calls his science turns +finally out with him to be but the accepted ignorance of to-day; an' +he puts in every to-morrow of his existence provin' what a onbounded +jackass rabbit he's been the day before. It's otherwise with them +lower anamiles; what they knows they knows." + +Plainly, something had to be done to fortify my old friend. I fell +back, quite as a matter of course, upon that first aid to the injured, +another drink, and motioned the black waiter to the rescue. It did my +old friend good, that drink, the first fruits of which easier if not +better condition being certain fresh accusations against himself. + +"The trooth is, I'm a whole lot onused to these yere Fo'th of Jooly +outbursts; an' so I ondoubted suffers from 'em more keenly, that +a-way, than the av'rage gent. You see we never has none of 'em in +Wolfville; leastwise we never does but once. On that single festive +occasion we shore stubs our toe some plentiful, stubs it to that +degree, in fact, that we never feels moved to buck the game ag'in. +Once is enough for Wolfville. + +"Which it's the single failure that stains the fame of the camp. At +that, the flat-out reely belongs to Red Dog; or at least to Pete +Bland, for which misguided party the Red Dogs freely acknowledges +reespons'bility as belongin' to their outfit. + +"This yere Bland's dead now an' deep onder the doomsday sods. Also, he +died drinkin' like he'd lived. + +"'What's the malady?' Enright asks Peets, when the Doc comes trackin' +back, after seein' the finish of Bland. + +"'No malady at all, Sam,' says Peets, plumb cheerful an' frisky, same +as them case-hardened drug folks allers is when some other sport +passes in his checks--'no malady whatsoever. His jag simply stops on +centers, as a railroad gent'd say, an' I'm onable to start it ag'in.' + +"Was Peets any good as a med'cine man? Son, I'm shocked! Peets is +packin' 'round in his professional warbags the dipplomies of twenty +colleges, an' is onchallenged besides as the best eddicated sharp +personal on the sunset side of the Mississippi. You bet, he +onderstands the difference at least between bread pills an' buckshot, +which is a heap sight further than some of these yere drug folks ever +studies. + +"Colonel Sterett, who's fa'rly careful about what he says, reefers to +Peets in his _Daily Coyote_ as a 'intellectchooal giant,' an' thar +ain't no record of any scoffer comin' squanderin' along to contradict. +Mebby you'll say that the omission to do so is doo to the f'rocious +attitoode of the _Daily Coyote_ itse'f, techin' contradictions, an' +p'int to how that imprint keeps standin' at the head of its editorial +columns as a motto, the cynicism: + +"'Contradict the _Coyote_ and avoid old age!' + +"Thar'd be nothin' in it if you do. That motto's only one of Colonel +Sterett's bluffs, one of his witticisms that a-way. You don't reckon +that, in a sparsely settled country, whar the pop'lation is few an' +far between, the Colonel's goin' to go bumpin' off a subscriber over +mebby a mere difference of opinion? The Colonel ain't quite that +locoed." + +"But about your Wolfville-Red Dog Fourth of July celebration?" I +urged. + +"Which I'm in no temper to tell a story--me settin' yere with every +nerve as tight as a banjo catgut jest before it snaps. To reelate +yarns your mood ought to be the mood of the racontoor--a mood as rich +an' rank an' upstandin' as a field of wheat, ready to billow an' bend +before every gale of fancy. The way yesterday leaves me, whatever tale +I ondertakes to reecount would about come out of my mouth as stiff an' +short an' brittle as chopped hay. Also, as tasteless. Better let it go +till some other an' more mellow evenin'." + +No; I was ready to accept the chances, and said as much. A chopped-hay +style, for a change, might be found acceptable. Supplementing the +declaration with renewed Old Jordan, I was so far victorious that my +aged man of cattle yielded. + +"Well, then," he began reluctantly, "I'm onable to partic'larly say +which gent does make the orig'nal s'ggestion, but my belief is it's +Peets. I'm shore, however, that the Cornwallis idee comes from Bland; +an', since it's not only at that Cornwallis angle we-all falls +publicly down, but the same is primar'ly doo to the besotted obstinacy +of this yere Bland himse'f, Wolfville, while ever proudly willin' to +b'ar whatever blame's sawed off on to her shoulders proper, is always +convinced that Red Dog an' not us is to be held accountable. However, +Bland's gone an' paid what the sky scouts speaks of as the debt to +nacher, an' I'm willin' to confess for one that when he's sober he +ain't so bad. Not that them fits of sobriety is either so freequent or +so protracted they takes on any color of monotony. + +"Bland's baptismal name is Pete, an' in his way he's a leadin' +inflooence in Red Dog. He's owner of the 7-bar-D outfit, y'earmark a +swallow-fork in both y'ears--which brands seventeen hundred calves +each spring round-up; an' is moreover proprietor of the Abe Lincoln +Hotel, the same bein' Red Dog's principal beanery. Bland don't have to +keep this yere tavern none, but it arranges so he sees his friends an' +gets their _dinero_ at one an' the same time, which as combinin' +business an' pleasure in equal degrees appeals to him a heap. + +"Which it's the gen'ral voice that the best thing about Bland is his +wife. She's shore loyal to Bland, you bet! When they're livin' in +Prescott, an' a committee of three from one of them 'Purification Of +The Home' societies comes trapesin' in, to tell her about Bland bein' +ondooly interested in a exyooberant young soobrette who's singin' at +the theayter, an' spendin' his money on her mighty permiscus, Missis +Bland listens plenty ca'm ontil they're plumb through. Then she hands +them Purifiers this: + +"'Well, ladies, I'd a heap sooner have a husband who can take keer of +two women than a husband who can't take keer of one.' + +"After which she comes down on that Purification bunch like a fallin' +star, an' brooms 'em out of the house. Accordin' to eye witnesses, who +speaks without prejewdyce, she certainly does dust their bunnets +strenuous. + +"When Bland hears he pats Missis Bland on the shoulder, an' exclaims, +'Thar's my troo-bloo old Betsy Jane! She knows I wouldn't trade a look +from them faded old gray eyes of hers for all the soobretts whoever +pulls a frock on over their heads!' + +"Followin' which encomium Bland sends to San Francisco an' changes in +the money from five hundred steers for an outfit of diamonds, to go +'round her neck, an' preesents 'em to Missis Bland. + +"'Thar,' he says, danglin' them gewgaws in the sun, 'you don't notice +no actresses flittin' about the scene arrayed like that, do you? If +so, p'int out them over-bedecked females, an' I'll see all they've got +on an' go 'em five thousand better, if it calls for every 7-bar-D +steer on the range.' + +"'Pete,' says Missis Bland, clampin' on to the jooelry with one hand, +an' slidin' the other about his neck, 'you certainly are the kindest +soul who ever makes a moccasin track in Arizona, besides bein' a good +provider.' + +"Shore, this yere Bland ain't so plumb bad. + +"An' after a fashion, too, he's able to give excooses. Talkin' to +Peets, he lays his rather light an' frisky habits to him bein' a +preacher's son. + +"'Which you never, Doc,' he says, 'meets up with the son an' heir of a +pulpiteer that a-way, who ain't pullin' on the moral bit, an' tryin' +for a runaway.' + +"'At any rate, Pete,' the Doc replies, all cautious an' conservative, +'I will say that if you're lookin' for some party who'll every day be +steady an' law abidin', not to say seedate, you'll be a heap more +likely to find him by searchin' about among the progeny of some party +who's been lynched.' + +"Recurrin' again to that miserabul Fo'th of Jooly play we cuts loose +in, it's that evenin' when we invites Red Dog over in a body to he'p +consoome the left-over stock of lickers in the former Votes For Women +S'loon, an' nacherally thar's some drinkin'. As is not infrequent whar +thar's drinkin', views is expressed an' prop'sitions made. It's then +we takes up the business of havin' that cel'bration. + +"Peets makes a speech, I recalls, an' after dilatin' 'round to the +effect that Fo'th of Jooly ain't but two weeks ahead, allows that it'd +be in patriotic line for us to do somethin'. + +"'Conj'intly,' says Peets, 'Red Dog an' Wolfville, movin' together +with one proud purpose of patriotism, ought to put over quite a show. +As commoonities we're no longer in the swaddlin' clothes of infancy. +It's time, too, that we goes on record as a whole public in some +manner an' form best calk'lated to make a somnolent East set up an' +notice us.' + +"Peets continyoos in a sim'lar vein, an' speaks of the settlement of +the Southwest, wharin we b'ars our part, as a 'Exodus without a +prophet, a croosade without a cross,' which sent'ment he confesses he +takes from a lit'rary sport, but no less troo for that. He closes by +sayin' that if everybody feels like he does Wolfville an' Red Dog'll +j'ine in layin' out a program, that a-way, which'll shore spread the +glorious trooth from coast to coast that we-all is on the map to +stay. + +"It's a credit to both outfits, how yoonanimously the s'ggestion is +took up. Which I never does see a public go all one way so plumb +quick, an' with so little struggle, since B'ar Creek Stanton is +lynched; which act of jestice even has the absoloote endorsement of +B'ar Creek himse'f. + +"Peets is no sooner done talkin' than Tutt stacks in. + +"'Thar's our six-shooters,' says he, 'for the foosilade; an', as for +moosic, sech as "Columbia the Gem" an' the "Star Spangled Banner," we +can round up them Dutchmen, who's the orchestra over at the Bird Cage +Op'ry House.' + +"The talk rambles on, one word borryin' another, ontil we outlines +quite a game. Thar's to be a procession between Wolfville an' Red +Dog, an' back ag'in, Faro Nell leadin' the same on a _pinto_ pony as +the Goddess of Liberty. + +"'An' that reeminds me,' submits Cherokee, when we reaches Nell; +'thar's Missis Rucker. It's goin' to hurt her feelin's to be left out. +As the preesidin' genius of the O. K. Restauraw she's in shape to give +us a racket we'll despise in eevent she gets her back up.' + +"'How about lettin' her in on the play,' says Boggs, 'an' typ'fyin' +Jestice, that a-way?' + +"'Thar's a idee, Dan,' says Texas Thompson, 'which plugs the center, a +reecommendation which does you proud! Down in that Laredo Co't House +whar my wife wins out her divorce that time, thar's a figger of +Jestice painted on the wall. Shore, it don't mean nothin'; but all the +same it's thar, dressed in white, that a-way, with eyes bandaged, an' +packin' a sword in one hand an' holdin' aloft some balances in +t'other. Come to think of it, too, that picture shore looks a lot like +Missis Rucker in the face, bein' plumb haughty an' commandin'.' + +"'Missis Rucker not bein' yere none,' says Enright softly, an' +peerin' about some cautious, 'I submits that while no more esteemable +lady ever tosses a flapjack or fries salt-hoss in a pan, her figger is +mebby jest a trifle too abundant. As Jestice, she'll nacherally be +arrayed--as Texas says--in white, same as Nell as the Goddess. I don't +want to seem technicle, but white augments the size of folks an' will +make the lady in question look bigger'n a load of hay.' + +"'Even so,' reemarks the Red Dog chief indulgently, 'would that of +itse'f, I asks, be reckoned any setback? The lady will person'fy +Jestice; an' as sech I submits she can't look none too big.' + +"In compliment to the Red Dog chief Enright, with a p'lite flourish, +allows that he yields his objection with pleasure, an' Missis Rucker +is put down for Jestice. It's agreed likewise to borry a coach from +the stage company for her to ride on top. + +"'Her bein' preeclooded,' explains Peets, 'from ridin' a hoss that +a-way, as entirely ondignified if not onsafe. We can rig her up a +throne with one of the big splint-bottom cha'rs from the Red Light, +an' wrop the same in the American flag so's to make it look +offishul.' + +"Tucson Jennie, with little Enright Peets as the Hope of the Republic, +is to ride inside the coach. + +"Havin' got this far, Pete Bland submits that a tellin' number would +be a sham battle, Red Dog ag'in Wolfville. + +"Thar's opp'sition developed to this. Both Enright an' the Red Dog +chief, as leaders of pop'lar feelin', is afraid that some sport'll +forget that it ain't on the level, an' take to over-actin' his part. + +"As the Red Dog chief expresses it: + +"'Some gent might be so far carried away by enthoosiasm as to go to +shootin' low, an' some other gent get creased.' + +"'The same bein' my notion exact,' Enright chips in. 'Of course, the +gent who thus shoots low would ondenyably do so onintentional; but +what good would that do the party who's been winged, an' who mightn't +live long enough to receive apol'gies?' + +"'That's whatever!' says Jack Moore. 'A sham battle's too plumb apt to +prove a snare. The more, since everybody's so onused to 'em 'round +yere. A gent, by keepin' his mind firm fixed, might manage to miss +once or twice; but soon or late he'd become preoccupied, an' bust some +of the opp'sition before he could ketch himse'f.' + +"Bland, seein' opinion's ag'inst a sham battle, withdraws the motion, +an' does it plenty graceful for a gent who's onable to stand. + +"'Enough said,' he remarks, wavin' a acquiescent paw. 'Ante, an' pass +the buck.' + +"The Lightnin' Bug, speakin' from the Red Dog side, insists that in +the reg'lar course of things thar's bound to be oratory. In that +connection he mentions a sharp who lives in Phoenix. + +"'Which I'm shore,' says the Bug, 'he'd be gladly willin' to assist; +an' you hear me he's got a tongue of fire! Some of you-all sports must +have crossed up with him--Jedge Beebe of Phoenix?' + +"'Jedge Beebe?' interjecks Monte, who's given a hostler his proxy to +take out the stage because of thar bein' onlimited licker; 'me an' the +Jedge stands drinkin' together for hours the last time he's in Tucson. +But you're plumb wrong, Bug, about him bein' eloquent.' + +"'Wrong?' the Bug repeats, mighty indignant. + +"'Of course,' says Monte, rememberin' how easy heated the Bug is, an' +that he looks on six-shooters as argyooments, 'I don't mean he can't +talk none; only he ain't what the Doc yere calls no Demosthenes.' + +"'Did you ever hear the Jedge talk?' demands the Bug. + +"'Which I shore does,' insists Monte; 'I listens to him for two hours +that time in Tucson. It's when they opens the Broadway Dance Hall.' + +"'Whatever is his subject?' asks the Bug, layin' for to ketch Monte; +'what's the Jedge talkin' about?' + +"'I don't know,' says Monte, wropped in his usual mantle of +whiskey-soaked innocence; 'he didn't say.' + +"The Bug's eyes comes together in a angry focus; he thinks he's bein' +made game of. + +"Tharupon Enright cuts in. + +"'Bug,' he says, all sociable an' suave, 'you mustn't mind Monte. He's +so misconstructed that followin' the twenty-fifth drink he goes about +takin' his ignorance for information. No one doubts but you're a heap +better jedge than him of eloquence, an' everything else except +nosepaint. S'ppose you consider yourse'f a committee to act for the +con'jint camps, an' invite this yere joorist to be present as orator +of the day.' + +"The Bug's brow cl'ars at this, an' he asshores Enright that he'll be +proud to act as sech. + +"'An', gents,' he adds, 'if you says he ain't got Patrick Henry beat +to a standstill, may I never hold as good as aces-up ag'in.' + +"The Red Dog chief announces that all hands must attend a free-for-all +banquet which, inflooenced by the tenth drink, he then an' thar +decides to give at Bland's Abe Lincoln House. + +"'Said banquet,' he explains, 'bein' in the nacher of a lunch to be +held at high noon. If the dinin' room of the Abe Lincoln House ain't +spacious enough, an I'll say right yere it ain't, we'll teetotaciously +set them tables in the street. That's my style! I wants everybody, bar +Mexicans, to be present. When I gives a blow-out, I goes fo'th into +the highways an' byways, an' asks the halt an' the lame an' the +blind, like the good book says. Also, no gent need go prowlin' 'round +for no weddin' garments wharin to come. Which he's welcome to show up +in goat-skin laiggin's, or appear wropped in the drippin' an' +offensive pelt of a wet dog.' + +"The Red Dog chief, lest some of us is sens'tive, goes on to add that +no gent is to regyard them cracks about the halt an' the lame an' the +blind as aimed at Wolfville. He allows he ain't that invidious, an' in +what he says is merely out to be both euphonious an' explicit, that +a-way, at one an' the same time. + +"To which Enright reesponds that no offence is took, an' asshores the +Red Dog chief that Wolfville will attend the banquet all spraddled +out. + +"More licker, followed by gen'ral congratulations. + +"Bland ag'in comes surgin' to the fore. This time he thinks that as a +main feachure it would be a highly effective racket to reenact the +surrender of Cornwallis to Washington. + +"Tutt goes weavin' across to shake his hand. + +"'Some folks allows, Pete,' says Tutt, 'that you're as whiskey-soaked +an old fool as Monte. But not me, Pete, not your old pard, Dave Tutt! +An' you hear me, Pete, that idee about Cornwallis givin' up his sword +to Washington dem'nstrates it.' + +"'You bet your life it does!' says Bland. + +"'But is this yere surrender feasible?' asks Texas. 'Which, at first +blink, it seems some cumbrous to me.' + +"'It's as easy as turnin' jack,' declar's Tutt, takin' the play away +from Bland. 'I've seen it done.' + +"'As when an' whar?' puts in Cherokee. + +"'Thar's a time,' says Tutt--'it's way back--when I sets into a little +poker game over in El Paso, table stakes she is, an' cleans up for +about $10,000. For mebby a week I goes 'round thinkin' that $10,000 is +a million; an' after that I simply _knows_ it is. These yere +onnacheral riches onhinges me to a p'int whar I deecides I'll visit +Chicago an' Noo York, as calk'lated to broaden me.' + +"'Noo York!--Chicago!' interrupts the Bug. 'I once deescends upon them +hamlets, an' I encounters this yere strikin' difference. In Chicago +they wouldn't let me spend a dollar, while in Noo York they wouldn't +let anybody else spend one.' + +"'It's otherwise with me,' goes on Tutt, 'because for a wind-up I +don't see neither. I'm young then, d' you see, an' affected by yooth +an' wealth I takes to licker, with the result that I goes pervadin' up +an' down the train, insistin' on becomin' person'ly known to the +passengers.' + +"'An' nacherally you gets put off,' says Boggs. + +"'Not exactly, neither. Only the conductor, assisted by a bevy of +brakemen, lays the thing before me in sech a convincin' shape that I +gets off of my own accord. It seems that to be agree'ble, I proposes +wedlock to a middle-aged schoolmarm, who allows that she sees no +objection except I'm a perfect stranger. She says it ain't been +customary with her much to go weddin' strangers that a-way, but if +I'll get myse'f reg'larly introdooced, an' then give her a day or so +to become used to my looks, she'll go me. It's then the conductor +draws me aside, an' says, "I've a son about your age, my eboolient +young sport, which is why I takes your part. My theery is that if you +sticks aboard this train ontil we reaches Rock Island, you'll never +leave that village a single man." + +"'This sobers me,' Tutt continyoos, 'an' I hides in the baggage kyar +ontil we reaches a camp called Sedalia, whar I quietly makes my +escape. I'm that reelieved I gives the cabman $20 to let me drive, an' +then starts in to wake things up. Which I shore wakes 'em! I comes +down the main street like the breath of destiny; an', say, you ought +to see them Missourians climb trees, an' gen'rally break for cover! It +costs me $50; an' the jedge gives me his word that, only it's the +Fo'th of Jooly, he'd have handed me two weeks in the calaboose. I +clinks down the fifty _pesos_ some grateful, an' goes bulgin' forth to +witness the cer'monies. She's a jo-darter, that Sedalia cel'bration +is! As Pete yere recommends, they pulls off the surrender of +Cornwallis on the Fair grounds. Also, it's plumb easy. All you needs +is mebby a couple of hundred folks on hosses, an' after that the +rest's like rollin' off a log.' + +"More is said as the drink goes round, an' Cornwallis surrenderin' +to Washington takes hold of our imaginations. We throws dice, +an' settles it that Red Dog'll be the English, with Bland as +Cornwallis, while Wolfville acts as the Americans, Boggs to perform +as Washington--Boggs bein' six foot an' some inches, besides as +wide as a door. By the time we gets the stock of the Votes for +Women S'loon fully drinked up everything's arranged. + +"Onless you sees no objections, son, I'll gallop through the balance +of this yere painful eepisode. The day comes round, bright an' +cl'ar, an' the Copper Queen people gen'rously starts the ball +a-rollin' by explodin' thirteen cans of powder, one for each of +the orig'nal states. Then the procession forms, Nell in front as the +Goddess. Thar's full two hundred of us, Wolfville an' Red Dog, on +ponies. As to Missis Rucker, she's on top of the coach as Jestice, +Tucson Jennie--with little Enright Peets lookin' like a young he +cherub--inside, an' Monte pullin' the reins over the six hosses. +We makes four trips between Wolfville an' Red Dog, crackin' off +our good old '45s at irreg'lar intervals, Nell on her calico pony as +the Goddess bustin' away with the rest. + +"Little Enright Peets wants in on the pistol shootin', an' howls jes' +like a coyote--as children will--ontil Boggs, who foresees it an' +comes provided, gives him a baby pistol, a box of blank cartridges, +an' exhorts him to cut loose. Which little Enright Peets shore cuts +loose, all right; an', except that he sets fire to the coach a few +times, an' makes Missis Rucker oneasy up on top--her fearin' that +mebby some of them blanks has bullets in 'em by mistake--he has a +perfectly splendid time. + +"The procession over, we eats up the Red Dog chief's banquet, wharat +every brand of airtights is introdooced. That done, we listens to +Jedge Beebe, who soars an' sails an' sails an' soars, rhetorical, for +mebby it's a hour, an' is that eloquent an' elevated he never hits +nothin' but the highest places. + +"The Red Dog chief makes a speech, an' proposes 'Wolfville'; to which +Peets--by Enright's request--reesponds, an' offers 'Red Dog.' It's +bottoms up to both sentiments; for thar's no negligence about the +drinks, Black Jack havin' capered fraternally over to he'p out his +overworked barkeep brother of the Red Dog Tub of Blood. + +"When no one wants to further drink or eat or talk, we reepa'rs to a +level place between the two camps to go through the Cornwallis' +surrender. The rival forces is arrayed opp'site, Cornwallis Bland in a +red coat, an' Washington Boggs in bloo an' buff, accordin' to the +teachin's of hist'ry. Both of 'em has sabers donated from the Fort. + +"When all's ready Washington Boggs an' Cornwallis Bland rides out in +front ontil they're in easy speakin' distance. Cornwallis Bland's been +over-drinkin' some, an' is w'arin' a mighty deefiant look. + +"After a spell, nothin' bein' spoke on either side, Washington Boggs +calls out: + +"'Is this yere Gen'ral Cornwallis?' + +"'Who you talkin' to?' demands Cornwallis Bland, a heap contemptuous +an' insolent. + +"Peets has done writ out words for 'em to say, but neither uses 'em. +Observin' how Cornwallis Bland conducts himse'f, Washington Boggs +waves his sword plenty vehement, which makes his pony cavort an' +buckjump, an' roars: + +"'Don't you try to play nothin' on me, Gen'ral Cornwallis. Do you or +do you not surrender your mis'rable blade?' + +"'Surrender nothin'!' Cornwallis Bland sneers back, meanwhile reelin' +in his saddle. 'Thar's never the horned-toad clanks a spur in Cochise +County can make me surrender. Likewise, don't you-all go wavin' that +fool weepon at me none. I don't valyoo it more'n if it's a puddin' +stick. Which I've got one of 'em myse'f'--yere he'd have lopped off +one of his pony's y'ears, only it's so dull--'an' I wouldn't give it +to a yellow pup to play with.' + +"'For the last time, Cornwallis,' says Washington Boggs, face aflame +with rage, 'I commands you to surrender.' + +"'Don't let him bluff you, Pete,' yells a bumptious young cow-puncher +who belongs on the Red Dog-English side. 'Which we can wipe up the +plains with that Wolfville outfit.' + +"The Red Dog chief bats the young trouble-makin' cow-puncher over the +head with his gun, an' quietly motions to the Lightnin' Bug an' a +fellow Red Dog to pack what reemains of him to the r'ar. This done, he +turns to reemonstrate with Cornwallis Bland for his obstinancy. He's +too late. Washington Boggs, who's stood all he will, drives the spurs +into his pony, an' next with a bound an' a rush, he hits Cornwallis +Bland an' his charger full chisle. + +"The pony of Cornwallis Bland fa'rly swaps ends with itse'f, an' +Cornwallis would have swapped ends with it, too, only Washington Boggs +collars an' hefts him out of his saddle. + +"'Now, you onwashed drunkard, will you surrender?' roars Washington +Boggs, shakin' Cornwallis Bland like a dog does a rat, ontil that +British leader drops all of his hardware, incloosive of his +pistol--'now will you surrender, or must I break your back across your +own pony, as showin' you the error of your ways?' + +"It looks like thar's goin' to be a hostile comminglin' of all hands, +when--her ha'r streamin' behind her same as if she's a comet--Missis +Bland comes chargin' up. + +"'Yere, you drunken villyun!' she screams to Boggs, 'give me my +husband this instant, onless you wants me to t'ar your eyes out!' + +"'It's him who's to blame, ma'am,' says Enright mildly, comin' to +Boggs' rescoo; 'which he won't surrender.' + +"'Oh, he won't, won't he?' says Missis Bland, as she hooks onto +Cornwallis Bland. 'You bet he'll surrender to me all right, or I'll +know why.' + +"As the Red Dog chief is apol'gizin' to Enright, who's tellin' him not +to mind, Cornwallis Bland is bein' half shoved an' half drug, not to +mention wholly yanked, towards the Abe Lincoln House by Missis Bland. + +"That's the end. This yere ontoward finale to our cel'bration gets +wide-flung notice in print, an' instead of bein' a boost, as we-all +hopes, Wolfville an' Red Dog becomes a jest an' jeer. Also, while it +don't sour the friendly relations of the two camps, the simple mention +of Fo'th of Jooly leaves a bitter taste in the Wolfville-Red Dog mouth +ever since." + + + + +VII + +PROPRIETY PRATT, HYPNOTIST + + +"Do I ever see any folks get hypnotized? Which I witnesses a few sech +instances. But it's usually done with a gun. If you're yearnin' to +behold a party go into a trance plumb successful an' abrupt, get the +drop on him. Thar ain't one sport in a hundred who can look into the +muzzle of a Colt's .45, held by a competent hand, without lapsin' into +what Peets calls a 'cataleptic state.' + +"Shore, son, I savvys what you means." + +The last was because I had begun to exhibit signs of impatience at +what I regarded as a too flippant spirit on the part of my old +cattleman. In the polite kindliness of his nature he made haste to +smooth down my fur. + +"To be shore I onderstands you. As to the real thing in hypnotism, +however, thar arises as I recalls eevents but few examples in Arizona. +The Southwest that a-way ain't the troo field for them hypnotists, the +weak-minded among the pop'lation bein' redooced to minimum. Now an' +then of course some hypnotic maverick, who's strayed from the eastern +range, takes to trackin' 'round among us sort o' blind an' permiscus. +But he never stays long, an' is generally tickled to death when some +vig'lance committee so far reelents as to let him escape back. + +"Over in Bernilillo once, I'm present when a mob gets its rope onto +one of these yere wizards, an' it's nothin' but the mercy of hell an' +the mean pars'mony of what outcasts has him in charge, which saves him +from bein' swung up. Mind you, it ain't no vig'lance committee, but a +mob, that's got him. + +"Whatever is the difference? + +"Said difference, son, is as a spanless gulf. A vig'lance committee is +the coolest kind of comin' together of the integrity an' the brains of +a commoonity. A mob, on the other hand, is a chance-blown convention +of deestructionists, as savagely brainless as a pack of timber wolves. +A vig'lance committee seeks jestice; a mob is merely out for blood." + +"About this Bernilillo business?" + +The old gentleman, as though the recital might take some time, +signalled the black attendant to bring refreshments. The bottle +comfortably at his elbow, he proceeded. + +"I was thar, as I says, but I takes no part for either 'yes' or 'no,' +bein' no more'n simply a 'looker on in Vienna,' as the actor party +observes over in the Bird Cage Op'ry House. Thar's one of them +hypnotizin' sharps who's come bulgin' into Bernilillo to give a show. +Nacherally the local folks raps for a showdown; they insists he +entrance some one they knows, an' refooses to be put off by him +hypnotizin' what herd of hirelin's he's brought with him, on the +argyooment that them humbugs is in all likelihood but cappers for his +game. + +"Thus stood up, the professor, as he calls himself, begins rummagin' +'round for a subject. Thar's a little Frenchman who's been pervadin' +about Bernilillo, claimin' to be a artist. Which he's shore a painter +all right. I sees him myse'f take a bresh an' a batch of colors, an' +paint a runnin' iron so it looks so much like wood it floats. Shore; +Emil--which this yere genius' name is Emil--as a artist that a-way is +as good as jacks-up before the draw. + +"The hypnotic professor runs his eye over the audjence. In a moment +he's onto Emil, an' begins to w'irl his hypnotic rope. It's Emil bein' +thin an' weakly an' bloodless, I reckon, that attracts him. This yere +Emil ain't got bodily stren'th to hold his own ag'in a high wind, an' +the professor is on at a glance that, considered from standp'ints of +hypnotism, he ought to be a pushover. + +"Emil don't hone to be no subject, but them Bernilillo hold-ups +snatches onto him in spite of his protests, an' passes him up onto the +stage to the professor. They're plenty headlong, not to say boorish, +them Bernilillo ruffians be; speshully if they've sot their hearts on +anythin', an' pore Emil stands about the same show among 'em as a +cottontail rabbit among a passel of owls. + +"For myse'f, I allers adheres to a theery that what follows is to be +laid primar'ly to the door of the Bernilillo pop'lace. Which it's +themselves, not the professor, they'd oughter've strung up. You see +this Emil artist person blinks out onder the spells of the professor, +an' never does come to no more. The professor hypnotizes Emil, but he +can't onhypnotize him. Thar he sets as dead as Davy Crockett. + +"This yere Emil bein' shore dead, Bernilillo sent'ment begins to churn +an' wax active. Thar ain't a well-conditioned vig'lance committee +between the Pecos an' the Colorado which, onder the circumstances, +would have dreamed of stretchin' that professor. What he does, them +Bernilillo dolts forces him to do. As for deceased, his ontimely +evaporation that a-way is but the frootes of happenstance. + +"What cares the Bernilillo pop'lace, wolf hungry for blood? In the +droppin' of a sombrero they've cinched onto the professor, an' the +only question left open is whether they'll string him up to the town +windmill or the sign in front of the First National Bank. + +"While them Bernilillo wolves is howlin' an' mobbin' an' millin' +'round the professor--who himse'f is scared plumb speechless an' is as +white as a lump of chalk--relief pushes to the front in most +onexpected shape. It's a kyard sharp by the name of Singleton, +otherwise called the Planter, who puts himse'f in nom'nation to +extricate the professor. + +"Climbin' onto the top step in front of the bank, the Planter lifts up +his voice for a hearin'. + +"'Folks!' he shouts, 'I'm in favor of this yere lynchin' like a +landslide. But, all the same, thar's a bet we overlooks. It's up to us +not only to be jest, but to be gen'rous. This yere murderer, who's +done blotted out the only real artist I ever meets except myse'f, has +a wife down to the hotel. As incident to these festiv'ties she's goin' +to be a widow. Is it for the manhood an' civic virchoo of Bernilillo +to leave a widow of its own construction broke an' without a dollar? I +hears the incensed echoes from the Black Range roarin' back in +scornful accents "No!" Sech bein' the sityooation, as preelim'nary to +this yere hangin' I moves we takes up a collection for that widow. +Yere's a fifty to 'nitiate the play'--at this p'int the Planter throws +a fifty-dollar bill into his hat--'an' as I passes among you I wants +every sport to come across, lib'ral an' free, an' prove to the world +lookin' on that Bernilillo is the band of onbelted philanthropists +which mankind's allers believed. + +"Hat in hand, same as if it's a contreebution box an' he's passin' the +platter in church, the Planter begins goin' in an' out through the +multitood like a meadowlark through standin' grass. That is, he +starts to go in an' out; but, at the first motion, that entire +lynchin' party exhales like mist on the mornin' mountains. It's the +same as flappin' a blanket at a bunch of cattle. Every profligate of +'em, at the su'gestion he contreebute to the widow, gets stampeded, +an' thar's nobody left but the Planter, the professor, an' me. + +"'Which I shore knows how to tech them ground-hawgs on the raw,' says +the Planter, as he onlooses the professor. 'If I was to have p'inted a +gun at 'em now, they'd've give me a battle. But bein' to the last man +jack a bunch of onmitigated misers, a threat leveled at their +bankrolls sets 'em to hidin' out like quail!' + +"The professor? + +"The instant he's laig-free, an' without so much as pausin' to +congrachoolate his preeserver on the power of his eloquence, he +vanishes into the night. He's headin' towards Vegas as he's lost to +sight, an' I learns later from Russ Kishler he makes that meetropolis +more or less used up. No; he don't have no wife. That flight of fancy +is flung off by the Planter simply as furnishin' 'atmosphere.' + +"Wolfville never gets honored but once by the notice of a hypnotist. +This yere party don't proclaim himse'f as sech, but bills his little +game as that of a 'magnetic healer,' an' allows in words a foot high +that he's out to 'make the deef hear, the blind see, the lame to walk +an' the halt to skip an' gambol as doth the hillside lamb.' Also, on +them notices, the same bein' the bigness of a hoss-blanket an' hung up +lib'ral in the Red Light, the post office, the Dance Hall, an' the Noo +York store, is a picture of old Satan himse'f, teachin' Professor +Propriety Pratt--that bein' the name this yere neecromancer gives +himse'f--his trade. + +"These proclamations is tacked up a full week before Professor Pratt +is doo, an' prodooces a profound effect on Boggs, him bein' by nacher +sooperstitious to the brink of the egreegious. The evenin' before the +Professor is to onlimber on us, he shows in Red Dog, an' Boggs is that +roused by what's been promised in the line of mir'cles, he rides +across to be present. + +"'It ain't that I'm convinced none,' Boggs reports, when quaffin' his +Old Jordan in the Red Light, an' settin' fo'th what he sees, 'but I +must confess to bein' more or less onhossed by what this yere Pratt +Professor does. He don't magnetize none of them Red Dog drunkards in +person, for which he's to be exon'rated, since no self-respectin' +magnetizer would let himse'f get tangled up with sech. He confines his +exploits to a brace of dreamy lookin' ground owls he totes 'round with +him, an' which he calls his "hosses." What he makes these vagrants do, +though, assoomin' it's on the squar', is a caution to bull-snakes. +After he's got 'em onder the "inflooence," they eats raw potatoes like +they're roast apples, sticks needles into themselves same as though +they're pincushions, an' at his slightest behest performs other feats +both blood-curdlin' an' myster'ous.' + +"We-all listens to Boggs, of course, as he recounts what marvels he's +gone ag'inst in Red Dog, but we don't yield him as much attention as +we otherwise might, bein' preeockepied as a public with word of a +hold-up that's come off over near the Whetstone Springs. Some +bandit--all alone--sticks up the Lordsburg coach, an' quits winner +sixty thousand dollars. Nacherally our cur'osity is a heap stirred up, +for with sech encouragement thar's no tellin' when he'll make a play +at Monte an' the Wolfville stage, an' take to layin' waste the +fortunes of all us gents. What is done to Lordsburg we can stand, but +a blow at our own warbags, even in antic'pation, is calc'lated to +cause us to perk up. We're all discussin' the doin's of this yere +route agent an' wonderin' if it's Curly Bill, when Boggs gets back +from Red Dog, with the result, as I says, that he onloads his +findin's, that a-way, on a dead kyard. Not that this yere public +inattention preys on Boggs. He keeps on drinkin' an' talkin', same as +though, all y'ears like a field of wheat, we ain't doin' a thing but +listen. + +"'Also,' he observes, as he tells Black Jack to rebusy himse'f, +meanwhile p'intin' up to the poster which shows how the devil is +holdin' Professor Pratt in his lap an' laborin' for that hypnotist's +instruction; 'I shall think out a few tests which oughter get the +measure of that mountebank. He won't find this outfit so easy as them +Red Dog boneheads.' + +"Professor Pratt has a one-day wait in Wolfville, not bein' able that +evenin' to get the Bird Cage Op'ry House, the same bein' engaged by a +company of histrions called the Red Stocking Blonds. Havin' nothin' +else to do, the Professor wanders yere an' thar, now in the Red +Light, now at the Noo York store, but showin' up at the O. K. +Restauraw at chuck time both rav'nous an' reg'lar. Missis Rucker +allows she never does feed a gent who puts himse'f outside of so much +grub for the money, an' hazards the belief it's because of a loss of +nervous force through them hypnotizin's he pulls off. Not that she's +findin' fault, for the Professor, havin' staked her to a free ticket, +has her on his staff in the shakin' of a dice-box. + +"The Professor don't come bulgin' among us, garroolous an' friendly, +but holds himse'f aloof a heap, clingin' to the feelin' mebby that to +preeserve a distance is likely to swell reesults at the Bird Cage +door. Boggs, however, ain't to be stood off by no coldness, carin' no +more for a gent's bein' haughty that a-way than a cow does for a +cobweb. Which you bet it'll take somethin' more'n mere airs to hold +Boggs in check. + +"It's in the O. K. Restauraw, followin' our evenin' _frijoles_, that +Boggs breaks the ice an' declar's for some exper'ments. + +"'Which you claims,' says he, appealin' to the Professor, 'to make the +deef hear and the blind see. Onforchoonately we're out of deef folks +at this writin', an' thar's nothin' approachin' blindness in this neck +of woods which don't arise from licker. But aside from cures thus +rendered impossible for want of el'gible invalids, thar's still this +yere hypnotic bluff you puts up. What Wolfville hankers for is tests, +tests about the legit'macy of which thar's no openin' for dispoote. +Wharfore I yereby makes offer of myse'f to become your onmurmurin' +dupe. I'll gamble you a stack of bloos you don't make me drink no +water, thinkin' it's nosepaint, same as you pretends to do with them +wretched confed'rates of yours.' + +"The Professor is a big b'ar-built sport, an' looks equal to holdin' +his own onder common conditions. But Boggs don't come onder the latter +head. So the Professor, turnin' diplomatic an' compliment'ry, explains +that sech powerful nachers as Boggs' is out of reach of his +rope--Boggs bein' reepellent, besides havin' too strong a will. + +"'As to you, Mister Boggs, with that will of yours,' says the +Professor, 'I might as well talk of hypnotizin' Cook's Peak.' + +"One after another, Boggs makes parade of everybody in camp. It's no +go; the Professor waves 'em aside as plumb onfit. Missis Rucker's got +too much on her mind; in Rucker the tides of manhood is at so low a +ebb he might die onder the pressure; Monte's too full of nosepaint, +alcohol, that a-way, bein' a nonconductor. + +"When the Professor dismisses Monte, the ground he puts it on excites +that inebriate to whar it reequires the united energies of Cherokee +an' Tutt to kick him off the Professor. It's only the direct commands +of Enright which in the end indooces him to keep the peace. + +"'Let me at him!' he howls; 'let me get at him! Does any one figger +I'll allow some fly-by-night charl'tan to go reeflectin' on me? Stand +back, Cherokee, get out o' the way, Dave, till I plaster the wall with +his reemains!' + +"'Ca'm yourse'f, Monte,' says Enright, who's come in in time to +onderstand the trouble. 'Which if this hypnotizer was reely meanin' to +outrage your feelin's, it'd be different a whole lot, an' this +sod-pawin' an' horn-tossin' might plead some jestification. But what +he says is in the way of scientific exposition, an' nothin' said +scientific's to be took insultin'. Ain't that your view, Doc?' + +"'Shore,' replies Peets. The Doc's been havin' no part in the +discussion, him holdin' that the Professor, with his rannikaboo bluff +about healin', is a empirik, an' beneath his professional contempt. +'Shore. Also, I'm free to inform Monte that if he thinks he's goin' to +lap up red licker to the degree he does, an' obleege folks in gen'ral +to treat sech consumption as a secret, he's got his stack down +wrong.' + +"'Enough said,' ejacyoolates Monte, but still warm; 'whether or no, +Doc, I'm the sot this outfit's so fond of picturin', I at least ain't +so lost to reason as to go buckin' ag'inst you an' Enright. Jest the +same, though, I'm yere to give the news to any magnetizing horned-toad +who sows the seeds of dispoote in this camp that, if he goes about +malignin' me, he'll shore find I'm preecisely the orange-hued +chimpanzee to wrop my prehensile tail around him an' yank him from his +limb.' + +"'Aside from aidin' the deef an' the blind,' says the Professor, +ignorin' Monte utter an' addressin' himse'f to Boggs an' the public +gen'ral, 'my ministrations has been found eff'cacious wharever the +course of troo love has not run smooth. I binds up wounds of +sent'ment, an' cures every sickness of the soul. Which, if thar's any +heart lyin' 'round loose yereabouts an' failin' to beat as one, or a +sperit that's been disyoonited from its mate an' can't remake the +hook-up, trust me to get thar with bells on in remedyin' sech evils.' + +"The Professor beams as he gets this off, mighty benignant. Texas, +feelin' like the common eye is on him, commences to grow restless. + +"'Be you-all alloodin' to me?' he asks the Professor, his manner +approaching the petyoolant. 'Let me give you warnin', an' all on the +principle that a wink is as good as a nod to a blind mule. So shore as +you go to makin' any plays to reyoonite me an' that divorced Laredo +wife of mine I'll c'llect enough of your hypnotizin' hide to make a +saddle-cover.' + +"'Permit me,' says the Professor, turnin' to Texas some aghast, 'to +give you my word I nourishes no sech deesigns. Which I'm driven to +say, however, that your attitoode is as hard to fathom as a fifth ace +in a poker deck. I in no wise onderstands your drift.' + +"'You onderstands at least,' returns Texas, still morbid an' +f'rocious, 'that you or any other fortune teller might better have +been born a Digger Injun to live on lizards, sage bresh an' +grasshoppers than come messin' 'round in my mar'tal affairs with a +view to reebuildin' 'em up. My hopes in that behalf is rooined; an' +whoever ondertakes their rehabil'tation'll do it in the smoke. What +I'm out after now is the ca'm onbroken misery of a single life, an' +I'll shore have it or have war.' + +"'My heated friend, I harbors no notion,' the Professor protests, 'of +tryin' to make it otherwise. Your romancin' 'round single, that a-way, +ain't no skin off my nose. An' while I never before hears of your +former bride, I'm onable to dodge the feelin' that she herse'f most +likely might reesent to the utmost any attempt on my part to ag'in +bring you an' her together.' + +"Texas formyoolates no express reply, but growls. The Professor, still +with that propitiatin' front, appeals to the rest of us. + +"'Gents,' he says, 'this yere's the most reesentful outfit I'm ever +inveigled into tryin' to give a show to. I certainly has no thought of +rubbin' wrong-ways the pop'lar bristles. All I aims at is to give a +exhibition of anamile magnetism, cure what halt an' blind--if any--is +cripplin' an' moonin' about, c'llect my _dinero_ an' peacefully hit +the trail. An' yet it looks like a prejewdice exists ag'inst me +yere.' + +"'Put a leetle pressure on the curb, thar,' interrupts Peets. 'You're +up ag'inst no prejewdice. On that bill, wharwith you've done defaced +the Wolfville walls, you makes sundry claims. An' now you r'ars back +on your ha'nches, preetendin' to feel plumb illyoosed, because some +one seeks to put the acid on 'em.' + +"'That's whatever!' adds Boggs; 'the Doc states my p'sition +equilaterally exact. I sees your Red Dog show. I'll be present a whole +lot at your show to-morry night. Also, I feels the need of gyardin' +ag'inst my own credoolity. What I sees you do in Red Dog, while not +convincin', throws me miles into the oncertain air; an' I don't figger +on lettin' you _vamoos_, leavin' me in no sech a onsettled frame. +Wharfore, I deemands tests.' + +"'Yere,' breaks in Nell, who's been listenin', 'what's the matter of +this occult party hypnotizin' me.' + +"'The odd kyard in that deck,' says Cherokee, his manner trenchin' on +the baleful--'the odd kyard in that deck is that onless this yere +occultist is cap'ble of mesmerizin' a bowie to whar it looses both +p'int an' edge, for him to go weavin' his wiles an' guiles 'round you, +Nellie, would mark the evenin' of his c'reer.' + +"Nell beams an' brightens at these yere proofs of Cherokee's int'rest, +while the pore Professor looks as deeply disheveled mental as he does +when Texas goes soarin' aloft. + +"Little Enright Peets waddles up to tell his paw that Tucson Jennie +wants him. As he comes teeterin' along on his short cub-b'ar laigs, +fat an' 'round as forty pigs, the Professor--thinkin' it'll mebby +relieve the sityooation--stoops down to be pleasant to little Enright +Peets. + +"'Yere's my little friend!' he says, at the same time holdin' out his +hands. + +"Later we-all feels some ashamed of the excitement we displays. But +the trooth is, the Professor offerin' to caress little Enright Peets +that a-way sends us plumb off our feet. I never before witnesses any +sech display of force. Every gent starts for'ard, an' some has pulled +their guns. + +"'Paws off!' roars Enright to the pore dazed Professor, who +comes mighty clost to rottin' down right thar; 'in view of them +announcements'--yere Enright p'ints to the bill, whar Satan an' +the Professor is deepicted as teacher an' poopil--'do you-all reckon +we lets sech a devil's baby as you go manhandlin' that child?' + +"The Professor throws up his hands like he's growing desp'rate. + +"'Folks,' he says, 'I asks, in all hoomility, is thar anythin' I can +say or do in this yere camp without throwing away my life?' + +"'Shore,' returns Boggs; 'all you got to do is give a deemonstration.' + +"'However be I goin' to give a hypnotic deemonstration,' returns the +Professor, apparently on the verge of nervous breakdown, 'when every +possible subject is either too preeokyoopied, or too obstinate, or too +weak, or too yoothful, or too beautiful, or too drunk? If it's healin' +you're after, bring fo'th the sickest you've got. If he's blind an' +his eye ain't gouged plumb out, I'll make him see; if he's lame an' +his laig ain't cut plumb off, I'll make him walk. An' now, gents, I'm +through. If these yere proffers don't suit, proceed with my bootchery. +I care less, since one day with you-all exactin' tarrapins has +rendered life so distasteful to me that I wouldn't turn hand or head +to live.' + +"Havin' got this off his mind, the harassed Professor sets down an' +buries his face in his hands. + +"'Why not introdooce him,' breaks in Rucker, who's nosin' about, 'to +that aflickted shorthorn who comes groanin' in on the stage last +night? He's been quiled up in his blankets with the rhoomatism ever +since he hits camp. Which if this yere imposter can make him walk, +it'll shore be kings-up with Missis Rucker, 'cause she wants to make +the bed.' + +"'Whar's this sufferer at?' demands Boggs, takin' the Professor by the +sleeve an' with the same motion pullin' his six-shooter. 'This yere +discussion's done reached the mark whar it's goin' to be a case of +kill or cure for some sport.' + +"Rucker leads the way up sta'rs, Boggs an' the Professor next, the +rest trailin'. All hands crowds into the little dark bedroom. Thar on +the bed, clewed up into a knot, lies the rhoomatic party. As we-all +files in, he draws himse'f onder the blankets ontil nothin' but his +nose sticks out. + +"'Professor,' says Boggs, an' his six-shooter goes 'kluck! kluck!' +mighty menacin', 'onfurl your game! I shore trusts that you ain't +started nothin' you can't stop.' + +"The pore Professor don't nurse no doubts. He thinks he's in the +bubblin' midst of blood an' sudden death; wharfore, you bet, he throws +plenty of sperit into his racket. Makin' some hostile moves with his +hands--Boggs elevatin' his gun, not bein' quite content about them +motions--the Professor yells: + +"'Get up!' + +"Talk of mir'cals! Which you should have seen that rhoomatic! With one +turrific squawk he lands on his knees at the feet of Boggs, beggin' +for mercy. + +"'Don't kill me,' he cries; 'I'll show you whar I plants the money.' + +"Whoever is that rhoomatic? Which he's the stoodent who stands up the +stage over by Whetstone Springs. His rhoomatism's merely that +malefactor's way of goin' onder cover. + +"The Professor later offers to divide with Boggs on the two +thousand-dollar reward the Wells-Fargo folks pays, but Boggs shakes +his head. + +"'You take the entire wad, Professor,' says he, wavin' aside that +gen'rous necromancer. 'It's the trophy of your own hypnotic bow an' +spear. What share is borne by my .45 is incidental. Which I'll say, +too, that if I was playin' your hand I'd spread that cure on my +posters as the star mir'cle of my c'reer.'" + + + + +VIII + +THAT TURNER PERSON + + +"Talk of your hooman storm-centers an' nacheral born hubs of grief," +observed the old cattleman, reminiscently; "I'm yere to back that +Turner person ag'inst all competitors. Not but what once we're onto +his angles, he sort o' oozes into our regyards. His baptismal name is +'Lafe,' but he never does deerive no ben'fit tharfrom among us, him +behavin' that eegregious from the jump, he's allers referred to as +'that Turner person.' + +"As evincin' how swift flows the turbid currents of his destinies, he +succeeds in focusin' the gen'ral gaze upon him before he's been in +camp a day. Likewise, it's jest as well Missis Rucker herse'f ain't +present none in person at the time, or mighty likely he'd have focused +all the crockery on the table upon him, which you can bet your last +_peso_ wouldn't have proved no desid'ratum. For while Missis Rucker +ain't what I calls onusual peevish, for a lady to set thar quiet an' +be p'inted to by some onlicensed boarder as a Borgia, that away, would +be more'n female flesh an' blood can b'ar. + +"It's like this. The Turner person comes pushin' his way into the O. +K. Restauraw along with the balance of the common herd, an' pulls a +cha'r up ag'inst the viands with all the confidence of a oldest +inhab'tant. After grinnin' up an' down the table as affable as a wet +dog, he ropes onto a can of airtights, the same bein' peaches. He +he'ps himse'f plenty copious an' starts to mowin' 'em away. + +"None of us is noticin' partic'lar, bein' engaged on our own hook +reachin' for things, when of a sudden he cuts loose a screech which +would have knocked a bobcat speechless. + +"'I'm p'isened!' he yells; 'I'm as good as dead right now!' + +"Followin' this yere fulm'nation, he takes to dancin' stiff-laiged, +meanwhile clutchin' hold of the buckle on his belt. + +"Thar should be no dissentin' voice when I states that, at a crisis +when some locoed maverick stampedes a entire dinin' room by allowin' +he's been p'isened, prompt action should be took. Wharfore it excites +no s'rprise when Jack Moore, to whom as kettle-tender for the +Stranglers all cases of voylance is _ex officio_ put up, capchers the +ghost-dancin' Turner person by the collar. + +"'Whatever's the meanin' of this midprandial excitement?' demands +Jack. 'Which if these is your manners in a dinin' room, I'd shore +admire to see you once in church.' + +"'I'm p'isened!' howls the Turner person, p'intin' at the airtights. +'It's ptomaines! I'm a gone fawnskin! Ptomaines is a center shot!' + +"None of us holds Rucker overhigh, an' yet we jestifies that husband's +action. Rucker's headin' in from the kitchen, bearin' aloft a platter +of ham an' cabbage. He arrives in time to gather in the Turner +person's bluff about 'ptomaines,' an' onderstands he's claimin' to be +p'isened. Shore, Rucker don't know what ptomaines is, but what then? +No more does the rest of us, onless it's Peets, an' he's over to +Tucson. As I freequently remarks, the Doc is the best eddicated sharp +in Arizona, an' even 'ptomaines' ain't got nothin' on him. + +"Rucker plants the platter of ham an' cabbage on the table, an' +appeals 'round to us. + +"'Gents,' he says, 'am I to stand mootely by an' see this tavern, the +best j'int ondoubted in Arizona, insulted?' An' with that he's down on +the Turner person like a fallin' tree, whar that crazy-hoss +individyooal stands jumpin' an' dancin' in the hands of Moore. + +"'What's these yere slanders,' shouts Rucker, 'you-all is levelin' at +my wife's hotel? Yere we be, feedin' you on the fat of the land; an' +the form your gratitoode takes is to go givin' it out broadcast you're +p'isened! You pull your freight,' he concloodes, as he wrastles the +dancin' Turner person to the door, 'an' if you-all ever shows your +villifyin' nose inside this hostelry ag'in I'll fill you full of +buckshot.' + +"To be shore, that crack about buckshot ain't nothin' more'n vain +hyperbole, Rucker not possessin' the spunk of bull-snakes. The Turner +person, however, lets him get away with it, an' submits tamely to be +buffaloed, which of itse'f shows he ain't got the heart of a horned +toad. The eepisode does Rucker a heap of good, though, an' he puffs up +immoderate. Given any party he can buffalo, an' the way that +weak-minded married man expands his chest, an' takes to struttin', is +a caution to cock partridges. An' all the time, a jack-rabbit, of +ordinary resolootion an' force of character, would make Rucker take to +a tree or go into a hole. + +"Is the Turner person p'isened? + +"No more'n I be. Which it's simple that alarmist's heated imagination, +aggravated by what deloosions is born of the nosepaint he gets in +Red Dog before ever he makes his Wolfville deboo at all. Two hookers +of Old Jordan from Black Jack renders him so plumb well he's +reedic'lous. + +"Most likely you-all'd go thinkin' now that, havin' let sech a +hooman failure as Rucker put it all over him, this Turner person'd lie +dormant a spell, an' give his se'f-respect a chance to ketch its +breath. Not him. It's no longer away than second drink time the same +evenin' when he locks gratooitous horns with Black Jack. To this last +embroglio thar is--an' could be--no deefense, Jack bein' so amiable +that havin' trouble with him is like goin' to the floor with your +own image in the glass. Which he's shorely a long sufferin' +barkeep, Jack is. Mebby it's his genius for forbearance, that a-way, +which loores this Turner person into attemptin' them outrages on his +sens'bilities. + +"The Turner person stands at the bar, sloppin' out the legit'mate +forty drops. With nothin' said or done to stir him up, he cocks his +eye at Jack--for all the world like a crow peerin into a bottle--an' +says, + +"'Which your feachers is displeasin' to me, an' I don't like your +looks.' + +"Jack keeps on swabbin' off the bar for a spell, an' all as mild as +the month of May. + +"'Is that remark to be took sarkastic?' he asks at last, 'or shall we +call it nothin' more'n a brainless effort to be funny?' + +"'None whatever!' retorts the Turner person; 'that observation's made +in a serious mood. Your countenance is ondoubted the facial failure of +the age, an' I requests that you turn it the other way while I +drinks.' + +"Not bein' otherwise engaged at the moment, an' havin' time at his +command, Jack repairs from behind the bar, an' seizes the Turner +person by the y'ear. + +"'An' this is the boasted hospital'ty of the West!' howls the Turner +person, strugglin' to free himself from Jack, who's slowly but +voloominously bootin' him towards the street. + +"It's Nell who tries to save him. + +"'Yere, you Jack!' she sings out, 'don't you-all go hurtin' that pore +tenderfoot none.' + +"Nell's a shade too late, however; Jack's already booted him out. + +"Shore, Jack apologizes. + +"'Beg parding, Nellie,' he says; 'your least command beats four of a +kind with me; but as to that ejected shorthorn, I has him all thrown +out before ever you gets your stack down.' + +"The Turner person picks himse'f out of the dust, an', while he feels +his frame for dislocations with one hand, feebly menaces at Black Jack +with t'other. + +"'Some day, you rum-sellin' miscreent,' he says, 'you'll go too far +with me.' + +"As showin' how little these vicisitoodes preys on this Turner person, +it ain't ten minutes till he's hit the middle of Wolfville's principal +causeway, roarin' at the top of his lungs, + +"'Cl'ar the path! I'm the grey wolf of the mountings, an' gen'ral +desolation follows whar I leads!' + +"Yere he gives a prolonged howl. + +"The hardest citizen that ever belted on a gun couldn't kick up no +sech row as that in Wolfville, an' last as long as a drink of whiskey. +In half the swish of a coyote's tail, Jack Moore's got the Turner +person corralled. + +"'This camp has put up with a heap from you,' says Moore, 'an' now we +tries what rest an' reeflection will do.' + +"'I'm a wolf--!' + +"'We savvys all about you bein' a wolf. Also, I'm goin' to tie you to +the windmill, as likely to exert a tamin' inflooence.' + +"Moore conveys the Turner person to the windmill, an' ropes his two +hands to one of its laigs. + +"'Thar, Wolf,' he says, makin' shore the Turner person is fastened +secoore, 'I shall leave you ontil, with every element of wildness +abated, you-all begins to feel more like a domestic anamile.' + +"From whar we-all are standin' in front of the post office, we can +see the Turner person roped to the windmill laig. + +"'What do you reckon's wrong with that party?' asks Enright, sort o' +gen'ral like; 'I don't take it he's actchooally locoed none.' + +"Thar's half a dozen opinions on the p'int involved. Tutt su'gests +that the Turner person's wits, not bein' cinched on any too tight by +nacher in the beginnin', mebby slips their girths same as happens with +a saddle. Cherokee inclines to a notion that whatever mental +deeflections he betrays is born primar'ly of him stoppin' that week in +Red Dog. Cherokee insists that sech a space in Red Dog shore ought to +be s'fficient to give any sport, however firmly founded, a decisive +slant. + +"As ag'inst both the others, Boggs holds to the view that the onusual +fitfulness observ'ble in the Turner person arises from a change of +licker, an' urges that the sudden shift from the beverages of Red Dog, +which last is indoobitably no more an' no less than liquid loonacy, to +the Red Lights Old Jordan, is bound to confer a twist upon the +straightest intellectyooals. + +"'Which I knows a party,' says Boggs, 'who once immerses a ten-penny +nail in a quart of Red Dog licker, an' at the end of the week he takes +it out a corkscrew.' + +"'Go an' get him, Jack,' says Enright, p'intin' to the Turner person; +'him bein' tied thar that a-way is an inhooman spectacle, an' if +little Enright Peets should come teeterin' along an' see him, it'd +have a tendency to harden the innocent child. Fetch him yere, an' let +me question him.' + +"'Front up,' says Moore to the Turner person, when he's been conveyed +before Enright; 'front up now, frank an' cheerful, an' answer +questions. Also, omit all ref'rences to bein' a wolf. Which you've +worn that topic thread-bar'; an' besides it ain't calc'lated to do you +credit.' + +"'Whatever's the matter with you?' asks Enright, speakin' to the +Turner person friendly like. 'Which I begins to think thar's somethin' +wrong with your system. The way you go knockin' about offendin' folks, +it won't be no time before every social circle in the Southwest'll be +closed ag'inst you. Whatever's wrong?' + +"'Them's the first kind words,' ejacyoolates the Turner person, +beginnin' to weep, 'which has been spoke to me in months. Which if +you-all will ask me into yon s'loon, an' protect me from that murderer +of a barkeep while I buys the drinks, I'll show you that I've been +illyoosed to a degree whar I'm no longer reespons'ble for my deeds. +It's a love affair,' he adds, gulpin' down a sob, 'an' I've been +crooelly misonderstood.' + +"'A love affair,' repeats Enright plenty soft, for the mention of love +never fails to hit our old warchief whar thar't a palin' off his +fence. 'I ain't been what you-all'd call in love none since the Purple +Blossom of Gingham Mountain marries Polly Hawkes over on the Painted +Post. Polly was a beauty, with a arm like a canthook, an' at sech +dulcet exercises as huggin' she's got b'ars left standin' sideways. +However, that's back in Tennessee, an' many years ago.' + +"Enright, breshin' the drops from his eyes, herds the Turner person +into the Red Light an' signals to Black Jack. + +"'Onfold,' he says; 'tell me as to that love affair wharin you gets +cold-decked.' + +"Nell abandons her p'sition on the lookout stool, an' shows up +interested an' intent at Enright's shoulder. + +"Ain't I in this?' she asks. + +"'Be thar any feachures,' says Enright to the Turner person, +'calc'lated to offend the y'ears of innocence?' + +"'None whatever,' says the Turner person. 'Which I'm oncapable of +shockin' the most fastid'yous.' + +"'Is thar time,' asks Nell of Enright, 'for me to round up Missis +Rucker an' Tucson Jennie? Listenin' to love tales, that a-way, is duck +soup to both of 'em.' + +"'You-all can tell 'em later, Nellie,' returns Enright. Then, to the +Turner person, 'Roll your game, _amigo_, an' if you needs refreshment, +yere it is.' + +"'It ain't no mighty reecital,' says the Turner person loogubriously, +'an' yet it ought to go some distance, among fa'r-minded gents, in +explainin' them vain elements of the weird an' ranikaboo which more or +less enters into my recent conduct. I'm from Missouri; an' for a +livelihood, an' to give the wolf a stand-off, I follows the profession +of a fooneral director. My one weakness is my love for Peggy Parks, +who lives with her folks out in the Sni-a-bar hills. + +"'The nuptual day is set, an' I goes hibernatin' off to Kansas City to +fetch the license.' + +"'How old be you?' breaks in Enright. + +"'Me? I'm twenty-six the last Joone rise of the old Missouri. As I +was sayin', I hitches my hoss in Market Squar', an' takes to +reeconoiterin' along Battle Row, wonderin' wharever them licenses is +for sale, anyway. Final, I discovers a se'f satisfied lookin' party, +who's pattin' a dog. I goes to talkin' about the dog, an' allowin' +I'm some on dogs myse'f, all by way of commencin' a conversation; +an' winds up by askin' whar I go for to get a license. "Over thar," +says the dog party p'intin' across to a edifice he asshores me is a +City Hall. "First floor, first door, an' the damage is a dollar." + +"'Thus steered, I goes streakin' it across, an' follows directions. I +boards my dollar, an' demands action. The outcast who's dealin' the +license game writes in my name, an' shoves the paper across. In a blur +of bliss I files it away in my jeans, mounts my hoss, an' goes +gambodin' back to Peggy, waitin' at ancestral Sni-a-bar.' + +"'Is your Peggy sweetheart pretty?' asks Nell. + +"'She's a lamp of loveliness! Sweet? Beetrees is gall an' wormwood to +her. + +"'As to the weddin', it's settled Peggy an' me is to come flutterin' +from our respective perches the next day. Doubtless we'd have done so, +only them orange blossom rites strikes the onexpected an' goes +glancin' off. + +"'It's the Campbellite preacher, who's been brought in to marry us, +that starts it. The play's to be made at Peggy's paw's house, after +which, for a weddin' trip, she an' me's to go wanderin' out torwards +the Shawnee Mission, whar I've got some kin. The parson, when he has +the entire outfit close-herded into the parlor, asks--bein' a car'ful +old practitioner--to see the license. I turns it over, an' he takes it +to the window to read. He gives that docyooment one look, an' then +glowers at me personal mighty baleful. "Miserable wretch," says he, +"do you-all want to get yourse'f tarred an' feathered?" + +"'In my confoosion I thinks this outbreak is part of the cer'mony, +an' starts to say "I do!" Before I can edge in a word, however, he +calls over Peggy's old man. "Read that!" he cries, holdin' the license +onder old Pap Parks' nose. Old Parks reads, an' the next news I gets +he's maulin' me with his hickory walkin' stick like he's beatin' a +kyarpet. + +"'Without waitin' to kiss the bride or recover my license, I simply +t'ars out the front of the house an' breaks for the woods. The next +day, old Parks takes to huntin' me with hounds. Nacherally, at this +proof of man's inhoomanity to man, I sneaks across into Kansas, an' +makes for the settin' sun.' + +"'An' can't you give no guess,' says Enright, 'at why old Parks digs +up the waraxe so plumb sudden?' + +"'No more'n rattlesnakes onborn, onless his inordinate glee at gettin' +me for a son-in-law has done drove him off his head.' + +"'Which it couldn't be that,' says Enright, takin' a hard, thoughtful +look at the Turner person. Then, followin' a pause, he adds, 'thar's +some myst'ry yere!' + +"'Ain't you-all made no try,' asks Nell, 'sech as writin' letters, or +some game sim'lar, to cl'ar things up?' + +"'You-all don't know Pap Parks, Miss, in all his curves. Why, it's +lucky he ain't wearin' his old bowie at that weddin', or he'd a-split +me into half apples. If I goes to writin' missives that a-way, he'll +locate me; an' you can take my word that invet'rate old homicide 'd +travel to the y'earth's eends to c'llect my skelp. That ain't goin' to +do me; for, much as I love Peggy, I'd a heap sooner be single than +dead.' + +"'That party ain't locoed,' says Texas, noddin' towards the Turner +person, whar he sets sobbin' in a cha'r when Enright gets through +examinin' him. 'He's simply a howlin' eediot. Yere he escapes wedlock +by a mir'cle; an'--chains an' slavery!--now he can't think of no +better way to employ his liberty than in cryin' his heart out because +he's free. If I'm bitter, gents, it's because I speaks from hard +experience. Considerin' how she later corrals that Laredo divorce an' +sells up my cattle at public vandoo for costs an' al'mony, if when I +troops to the altar with that lady whom I makes Missis Thompson, my +gyardian angel had gone at me with a axe, that faithful sperit would +have been doin' no more than its simple dooty in the premises.' + +"Enright takes it onto himself to squar' the Turner person at the Red +Light an' the O. K. Restauraw; an', since his ensooin' conduct is much +within decent bounds, except that Rucker steps some high an' mighty +when he heaves in sight an' Black Jack gives him hard an' narrow +looks, nothin' su'gestive of trouble occurs. In less'n a week he +shakes down into his proper place, an' all as placid as a duck-pond. +He's even a sort o' fav'rite with Nell, Missis Rucker an' Tucson +Jennie, they claimin' that he's sufferin' from soul blight because of +a lost love. Certainly, thar's nothin' in this yere fem'nine bluff, +but of course none of us don't say so at the time. + +"Boggs holds that the Turner person's only a pecooliarly gifted liar, +an' refooses to believe in him. 'Because it's prepost'rous,' says +Boggs, 'that folks would go in to frame up a weddin', an' then, led by +the preacher, take to mobbin' the bridegroom on the very threshold of +them nuptials.' + +"'It ain't by no means shore, Dan,' says Texas, to whom Boggs imparts +his convictions, 'but what you've drove the nail. Which if that Parks +household reely has it in for this Turner person, they'd have let him +go the route. Could even the revenge of a fiend ask more than simply +seein' him a married man?' + +"In about a fortnight, that Turner person's got fully cooled out, an' +the worst effects of what Red Dog licker he imbibes has disappeared. +As he feels himse'f approachin' normal, as Peets puts it, he mentions +to Enright casyooal like that, if the town sees nothin' ag'in it, he +reckons he'll open an ondertakin' shop. + +"'Not,' he says, 'that I'm the man to go hintin' that what former +foonerals has been pulled off in these yere parts ain't been all they +should; but still, to get a meetropolitan effect, you oughter have a +hearse an' ploomes. Let it be mine to provide them marks of a advanced +civilization. It'll make villages like Red Dog an' Colton sing low, +an' be a distinct advantage to a camp which is strugglin' for +consid'ration. Yes, sir,' goes on the Turner person, warmin' with the +theme, 'what's the public use of obsequies if you-all don't exhaust +'em of every ounce of good? An' how can any outfit expect to do this, +an' said outfit shy that greatest evidence of modern reefinement, a +hearse? Given a rosewood coffin, an' a black hearse with ploomes--me +on the box--an' the procession linin' solemnly out for Boot Hill, if +we-all ain't the instant envy of the territory, you can peg me out by +the nearest ant hill ontil I pleads guilty to bein' wrong.' + +"'Thar's no need for all this yere eloquence,' replies Enright, +blandly. 'What you proposes has been a dream of mine for years. You +open your game as fooneral director, an' if we can't find material for +you local, we'll go rummagin' 'round as far as Lordsburg an' Silver +City to supply the deficiency.' + +"Feelin' Enright is behind him, the Turner person goes to work with +sech exyooberant enthoosiasm, that it ain't a month before he brings +over his hearse from Tucson, said vehicle havin' been sent on from the +East. She's shore no slouch for a catafalque neither, an' we p'rades +up an' down the street with it, gettin' the effect. + +"Boggs voices the common feelin'. + +"'Thar's a conveyance,' says he, 'that comes mighty close to robbin' +death of half its sting. Any sport is bound to cash in more content, +when he savvys that his last appearance is bound to be a vict'ry an' +he'll be freighted to the sepulcher in a swell wagon like that.' + +"'It is shore calc'lated to confer class on the deeparted,' assents +Tutt. + +"These praises certainly exalts the sperits of the Turner person a +whole lot. He buys the old Lady Gay dance hall, which, since the goin' +out of the Votes for Women S'loon, has again become the ondispooted +property of Armstrong, makes a double-door to back in the hearse, an' +reopens that deefunct temple of drink an' merriment as a ondertakin' +establishment. Over the front he hangs up his sign. + + COFFIN EMPORIUM. + + L. TURNER, FUNERAL DIRECTOR. + + CORPSES SOLICITED. + +"That sign so much uplifts the sperit of the town it mor'n doubles the +day's receipts at the Red Light. Also, two or three shady characters +vamooses for fear of what a nacheral public eagerness to see that +hearse in action may do. + +"It's the day next on the hocks of the installation of the Turner +person in business, an' the fooneral director is lookin' out of the +front window of his coffin emporium wishin' some gent'd start +somethin' with his gun an' mebby bump him off a load for his new +hearse, when Enright eemerges from the post office with a iron look on +his face. Peets is with him, an' the pa'r is holdin' a pow-wow. + +"The rest of us might have taken more notice, only our sombreros is +fittin' some tight on account of the interest we evinces the day prior +in he'pin' la'nch the Turner person that a-way. As it is, we bats a +lackluster eye, an' wonders in a feeble way what's done corr'gated +Enright's brow. + +"It don't go no further than wonder, however, ontil after a few +moments talk with Nell, Enright sends across for the Turner person. As +showin' how keenly sens'tive are the female faculties that a-way, +Missis Rucker an' Tucson Jennie is canvassin' some infantile mal'dy of +little Enright Peets in the front room of the O. K. House, an' same as +if they smells the onyoosual in the air, they comes troopin' over to +the Red Light to note what happens next. + +"'Young man,' says Enright, when the Turner person has been brought +in, 'by way of starter, let me inquire, be you preepared to surrender +your destinies, of which you're plumb onfitted to have charge, into +disgusted albeit kindly hands?' + +"The Turner person, some oneasy at seein' Moore, who's carelessly +toyin' with a lariat, edgin' 'round his way, allows in tremblin' tones +he is. + +"'Thar be those,' goes on Enright, 'who with the best intentions in +the world, has been explorin' the ins an' outs of your Sni-a-bar +troubles, an' while the clouds is measur'ble lifted the fresh light +shed on your concerns leaves you in a most imbecile sityooation. Which +if I thought that little Enright Peets, not yet in techin' distance of +his teens, hadn't got no more sense than you, much as I dotes upon +that baby I'd shore vote for his deemise. However, proceedin' with the +deal, thar's this to say: Nellie thar, writes to your Peggy +sweetheart, while I opens negotiations with old man Parks. I plans to +read you them replies, but after advisin' with the Doc, an' collectin' +the views of Nell, it's deemed s'fficient to tell you what you're +goin' to do, an' then head you fo'th to its accomplishment. Our +conj'int findin's, the same bein' consented to by old Parks in +writin', an' tearfully deesired by your Peggy sweetheart in what she +commoonicates to Nellie, is that you proceed at once to Sni-a-bar, an' +get them interrupted nuptials over. After which you'll be free to +return yere with your bride, an' take up the hon'rable an' useful +c'reer you've marked out. As the preesidin' officer of the Stranglers, +my word is that you be ready to start by next stage; which, onless +Monte gets so deep in licker that he tips that conveyance over a +bluff, should permit you to clasp your Peggy to your bosom an' kiss +the tears from her cheeks by the middle of next week.' + +"'But,' interjects the Turner person, his voice soundin' like the +terrified bleatin' of a sheep, 'can't you-all give me no glimmer of +what's wrong that time? I don't hanker overmuch to go back in darkened +ignorance, like a lamb to the slaughter. What guarantee have I got +that old Parks won't lay for me with that bootcher knife of his'n? It +ain't fair to leave me to go knockin' about, in the midst of perils +sech as these, like a blind dog in a meat shop.' + +"'Your Peggy,' returns Enright, 'encloses a letter to you by the hand +of Nellie yere, which may or may not set fo'th what insults you +perp'trates upon her fam'ly. Also, said missive furnishes the only +chance at this end of the trail of you findin' out the len'th an' +breadth of your ignorant iniquities. For myse'f, the thought of what +you-all does that time is so infooriatin' I must refuse to go over it +in words. Only, if in his first reesentments old Parks had burned you +at the stake, I would not have condemned him. As to your safety +pers'nal, you can regyard it as asshored. Your Peggy will protect you, +an' your footure parent-in-law himse'f acquits you of everything +except bein' an eediot. It's, however, got down to whether he preefers +to have a fool in his fam'ly or see his darter wretched for life, an' +he's done nerved himse'f to take the fool.' + +"'Thar's your sweetheart's letter,' an' Nell puts an envelope which +smells of voylets into the Turner person's hands. + +"That ondertaker reads it; an' after bein' confoosed by shame for a +moment, he begins to cheer up. + +"'Folks,' he says, kissin' his Peggy's letter an' stowin' it away in +his coat, 'I trusts a gen'rous public will permit me, after thankin' +them whose kindness has smoothed out the kinks in my affairs, to close +the incident with onlimited drinks for the camp.' That's all he says; +an' neither can we dig anything further out of Enright or Nell. + +"We sees the Turner person aboard the stage, an' wishes him all kinds +of luck. As Monte straightens out the reins over his six hosses an' +cleans the lash of his whip through his fingers, Peets vouchsafes a +partin' word. + +"'Neither I nor Sam,' says Peets, 'wants you to go away thinkin' that +you an' your bride ain't goin' to be as welcome as roses when you an' +she comes ramblin' in as one on your return.' + +"'That's whatever,' coincides Nell. + +"'Also,' breaks in Enright, 'should old Parks go to stampin' the sod +or shakin' his horns, you-all are to put up with them deemonstrations +an' not make no aggrevatin' reemarks. No one knows better than you by +now, how much cause you gives that proud old gent to feel harrowed.' + +[Illustration: WE SEES THE TURNER PERSON ABOARD AN' WISHES HIM ALL KINDS +OF LUCK. p. 222.] + +"Of course all of us is preyed on by anxiety to know whatever awful +thing it is the Turner person does. In the end it's Missis Rucker who +smokes Enright out. + +"'Sam Enright,' says this yere intrepid lady, her manner plenty +darklin', 'you mustn't forget that whenever the impulse moves me I can +shet down utter on your grub. Likewise, as a lady, I not only knows my +p'sition, but keenly feels my rights. Which I don't aim to coerce you, +but onless you comes through with the trooth about this yere Turner +person's felonies, some drastic steps is on their way.' + +"'You will see, Missis Rucker,' says Enright, who's to be excoosed for +turnin' a bit white, 'that no present reason exists for threatenin' me +when I asshores you that as far back as last evenin' I fully decides +to lay bar' everything. I do this, onderstand, not through fear; but +lest some folks go surmisin' round to the inj'ry of the innocent. As I +recollects back, too, I can see how the Turner person slumps into that +mistake, him first talkin' dog to that canine party in Battle Row, +an' then askin' whar does he go for the weddin' license.' + +"'Sam Enright,' interrupts Missis Rucker, whose flashin' eyes shows +she's growin' hysterical, 'don't harass me with no p'intless speeches. +You say flat what it is he does, or take the consequences.' + +"'Why, my dear Missis Rucker,' an' Enright makes haste with his reply, +'the thing is easily grasped. The paper he gives the preacher sharp is +a dog license. Which that Turner person is seekin' to wed the belle of +Sni-a-bar on a permit to keep a dog! The canine party he meets in +Battle Row misonderstands a sityooation.' + +"'All the same,' observes Texas to Boggs, as the two meets that +evenin' in the Noo York store, 'thar's one feachure to a dog license, +not perceivable in a marriage license, which is worth gold an' +precious stones. Said docyooment runs out in a year.'" + + + + +IX + +RED MIKE + + +"Mebby you-all recalls about that Polish artist person?" suggested the +old cattleman, tentatively; "him I speaks of former?" My gray old +_campanero_ was measuring out what he called his "forty drops," and, +since this ceremony necessitated keeping one eye on his glass, while +he endeavored to keep the other eye on me, the contradictory effort +resulted in a wavering and uncertain expression, not at all in harmony +with his usual positive air. By way of helping conversation, I +confessed to a clear remembrance of the "Polish artist person," and +wound up by urging him to give the particulars concerning that +interesting exile. + +"Well," he cautiously returned, "thar ain't nothin' so mighty +thrillin' in his Wolfville c'reer. You see he ain't, for the most, no +pop'lar figure--him bein' a furriner, that a-way, an' a artist, an' +sufferin' besides from conceit in so acoote a form as to make it no +exaggeration to say he's locoed. On account of these yere divers an' +sundry handicaps, he don't achieve no social success, an' while he's +with us, you'd hardly call him of us. + +"Not that I objects to this deescendant of Warsaw's last champion, +personal. Which I'm a heap like Enright in sech reespects, an' +shore tol'rant. I finds out long ago that the reason we-all goes +fault-findin' about people, mostly is because we don't onderstand +concernin' them folk's surroundin's. Half the things we arches our +necks over, an' for which mebby we feels like killin' 'em a whole +lot, they can't he'p none. If we only savvys what they're reely up +ag'inst, it's four for one we pities 'em instead. + +"It's like one time 'way back yonder, when me an' Steve Stevenson has +a sudden an' abrupt diffukulty with a buffalo bull. We're camped out +on the edge of the Rockies near the Spanish Peaks, an' me an' Steve, +in the course of a little _passear_ we're takin', is jest roundin' a +bunch of plum bushes when, as onexpected as a gun play in a Bible +class, that devil's son an' heir of a bull--who's been hid by the +bushes--ups an charges. Which you should have seen me an' Steve +scatter! We certainly do onbuckle in some hasty moves! He's bigger 'n +a baggage wagon, an' as we leaves our guns ten rods away in camp, +thar's nothin' for it but to dig out. + +"Nigh whar I'm at is a measley _pinon_ tree, an' the way I swarms +aloft among that vegetable's boughs an' branches comes mighty clost to +bein' a lesson to mountain lions. Steve, who's the onluckiest sport +west of the Missouri, an' famed as sech, ain't got no tree. The best +he can do is go divin' into a hole he sees in some rocks, same as if +he's a jack-rabbit with a coyote in hot pursoote. + +"Me an' Steve both bein' safe, an' reegyardin' that bull as baffled, I +draws a breath of relief. That is, to be ackerate, I starts to draw +it; but before I so much as gets it started, yere that inordinate +Steve comes b'ilin' out of his hole ag'in like he ain't plumb +satisfied about that bull. The bull's done give him up, too, an' +switchin' his tail some thoughtful has started to go away, when, as I +tells you, that fool Steve comes surgin' out upon his reetreatin' +hocks. + +"Nacherally, what could any se'f-respectin' bull do but wheel an' +chase Steve back? It's no use, though; Steve won't have it. No sooner +does the bull get him hived that a-way, an' make ready to reetire to +private life ag'in, than, bing! yere Steve comes bulgin' like a cork +out of a bottle. An' so it continyoos, a reg'lar see-saw between Steve +an' the bull. Steve'll go into his cave of refooge, prairie-dog +fashion, a foot ahead of the bull's horns, only to be a foot behind +the bull's tail as that painstakin' anamile is arrangin' to deepart. + +"Which sech wretched strategy arouses my contempt. + +"'You dad-binged Siwash,' I yells down at Steve, 'whyever don't +you-all stay in that hole, ontil the bull forgets whar you're at?' + +"'Go on!' Steve shouts back, as in he dives, head-first, for mebby +it's the twentieth time; 'it's as simple as suckin' aiggs, ain't it, +for you up in your tree? You-all don't know nothin' about this hole; +thar's a b'ar in this hole!' + +"Which I allers remembers about that dilemmy of Steve's. An' now, when +I beholds a gent makin' some rannikaboo break, an' everybody's +scoffin' at him an' deenouncin' him for a loonatic or worse, I +reeflects that mighty likely if we-all was to go examine the hole he's +in, we'd find it plumb full of b'ar. + +"Returnin' to the orig'nal proposition, the same bein' that Polack, +let me begin by sayin' that whenever it comes to any utterances of +his'n, I'm nacherally onable to quote him exact. What with him rollin' +his 'Rs' ontil they sounds like one of them snare drums, an' the +jiggerty-jerkety fashion wharin he chops up his English, a gent might +as soon try to quote a planin' mill exact. + +"That I'm able to give you-all his troo name is doo wholly to him +passin' round his kyard a heap profoose, when he first comes ramblin' +in, said cognomen as printed bein' 'Orloff Ivan Mitzkowanski, Artist +and Painter of Portraits.' We perooses this yere fulm'nation two or +three times, an' Peets even reads it out loud; but since the tongue of +no ordinary gent is capable of ropin' an' throwin' it, to say nothin' +of tyin' it down, we cuts the gordian knot in the usual way by +re-christenin' him _pro bono publico_ as Red Mike, which places him +within the verbal reach of all. + +"'Yes,' he says, as he ladles out them kyards, an' all with the +manner of a prince conferrin' favors--'yes, I'm a artist come to you, +seekin' subjects an' color. As you probably observes by my name, I'm a +gallant Pole, one whose noble ancestors shrieks when Kosciusko fell.' + +"Him bein' a stranger that a-way, an' no one, onless it's Peets, ever +havin' heard about Poland, or Kosciusko, or whoever does that +shriekin' the time when Kosciusko finds himse'f bumped off, we lets +Mike get by with this yere bluff. Besides, his name of itse'f sort o' +holds us. That anyone, an' specially any furriner, could come as far +as he has, flauntin' a name like that in the sensitive face of +mankind, an' yet live to tell the tale, is shore plenty preepar'tory +to believin' anything. + +"When we lets it go that owin' to local conditions we'll be obleeged +to call him 'Red Mike,' he's agree'ble. + +"'As you will, my friends,' he cries, bulgin' out his breast an' +thumpin' it. 'What care I, who am destined for immortality, that +barbarians should hail me as Red Mike? It is enough that I am not +destroyed, enough that I still move an' have my bein'!' + +"'Mike,' interjecks Tutt, bristlin' a little, 'don't cut loose in no +offensive flights. It's a heap onadvisable when addressin' us to +overwork that word "barbarian." As you says yourself, you're lucky to +be alive; which, bein' conceded, it'd be plenty proodent on your part +not to go doin' nothin' to change your luck.' + +"'Steady thar, Dave,' says Enright, 'don't go exhibitin' your teeth to +a pore benighted furriner, an' him not onto our curves.' + +"'Him bein' a furriner,' retorts Tutt, 'is but a added argyooment in +favor of him takin' heed. Speakin' for myse'f, I in partic'lar don't +want no furriner to step on my tail an' stand thar, same as if my +feelin's ain't goin' to count.' + +"'Be composed, my friend,' says Mike, tryin' to follow Enright out an' +squar' himse'f with Tutt--'be composed. I reetract the "barbarians" +an' suggest a drink.' + +"'That's all right, Mike,' returns Tutt, who's easy mollified; 'still +I onreservedly says ag'in that in Arizona thar's nothin' in becomin' +too difoose. All that this time lets you out, Mike, is that havin' +jest had our feed we're happ'ly lethargic. Which if you'd let fly +that crack about barbarians, an' us not fed none, some gent not +otherwise employed 'd have seized upon you as a mop-rag wharwith to +wipe up the floor.' + +"Thar's allers a dispoote as to whether or no Mike reely commits +sooicide that time. Tutt an' Texas holds to the last that his light +gettin' blowed out like it does is accidental. Peets, however, insists +it's a shore-enough sooicide. Of course, Boggs goes with Peets. +Whatever's the question at bay, Boggs never fails to string his play +with the Doc's; it's Boggs's system. All you has to do to get a rise +out o' Boggs is get some opinion out o' Peets. Once the Doc declar's +himse'f, Boggs is right thar to back said declaration for his last +dollar every time. + +"As sustainin' his claim of sooicide, Peets p'ints out that thar's no +gent, not a howlin' eediot complete, but knows s'fficient of giant +powder to be dead on to how it's cap'ble of bein' fired by friction. + +"'Why,' he says, eloocidatin' his p'sition, 'even darkened savages is +posted as to that. I once sees a South Sea Islander, in a moose-yum +East, who sets a bunch of shavin's in a blaze by rubbin' together two +sticks. An' this yere Mike is a eddycated sharp, eddicated at a Dutch +outfit called Heidelberg. Do you-all reckon a gradyooate of sech a +sem'nary ever walks out on a cold collar, him not wise, an' performs +in the numbskull fashions as this yere Mike?' + +"'That's whatever!' chimes in Boggs. + +"As I tells you, any emphatic idee laid down by Peets instantly sets +Boggs to strikin' same as one of them cuckoo clocks. + +"Enright? + +"The old silver tip stands nootral, not sidin' with either Peets an' +Boggs or Tutt an' Texas. + +"'Which this yere Mike bein' shore dead,' says Enright, 'strikes me as +s'fficient. I plants my moccasins on that, an' don't go pirootin' an' +projectin' about for no s'lootions which may or may not leave me out +on a limb.' + +"You recalls how it's Monte who, while gettin' drunk with him over to +the Oriental S'loon in Tucson, deloodes Mike into p'intin' our way. +Also, what Enright says to that deboshed stage driver for so doin'. +Enright's shore fervent on that occasion, an' the language he uses +would have killed two acres of grass. But that don't he'p none. After +the dust Enright paws up has settled, thar's Mike still, all quiled up +in the Wolfville lap. + +"Thar's a worse feachure, the same bein' Mike's wife. She's as young, +an' mighty nigh as lovely, too, as Nell; only she's blind, this yere +Mike's girl wife is, blind as any midnight mole. Besides her, an' a +armful of paint breshes an' pictures, about all Mike's got in the way +of plunder is a ten-dollar bill. If it's only Mike, we-all might have +thickened our hides a heap, an' let him go jumpin' sideways for his +daily grub, same as other folks. But girls must be fed, speshully +blind ones. + +"Which this egreegious Mike, who calls her his 'little Joolie,' allows +her bein' blind that a-way is why he marries her. + +"'It inshores her innocence,' he says; 'because it inshores her +ignorance of the world.' + +"'Likewise,' remarks Peets, as we stands discussin' this yere +reasonin' of Mike's in the Red Light, 'it inshores her ignorance of +them onmitigated pictures he paints. Which if ever she was just to get +one good look at 'em, he couldn't hold her with a Spanish bit. But +you-all knows how it is, Sam?'--Yere Peets clinks his glass, an' all +mighty sagacious, ag'inst Enright's--'The wind is tempered to the +shorn lamb. On the whole, I ain't none convinced that her bein' blind, +that a-way, ain't for the best.' + +"To look at this little Joolie, you-all'd never know she can't see +none. Her eyes is big an' soft an' deep, an nothin' queer about 'em +except they has a half-blurred, baby look. Peets allows it's the nerve +bein' dead which does it. But blind or not, little Joolie shore dotes +on that Red Mike husband of hers, as though he's made of love an' +gold. Which he's her heaven! + +"While it's evident, after a ca'm an' onbiased consideration of +his works, that from standp'ints of art this yere Mike's about +sign-painter size, little Joolie regyards him as the top-sawyer +genius of this or any other age. + +"'He'll revolutionize the world of art,' she declar's to Nell, who's +mighty constant about goin' to see her; 'Ivan'--she pronounces it +'Vahn'--'is ondoubted destined to become the founder of a noo +school.' + +"'An' her face,' goes on Nellie, as she tells us about it over to the +O. K. Restauraw one evenin', after Mike an' his little Joolie wife's +done pulled their freight for the night--'an' her face glows with the +faith of a angel! So if any of you-all boys finds occasion to speak of +this yere Mike in her presence, you be shore an' sw'ar that, as an +artist, he's got nacher backed plumb off the lay-out.' + +"'The wretch who fails,' adds Missis Rucker, plenty fierce, 'don't +wrastle his hash with me no more! You can gamble that marplot has +tackled his final plateful of slapjacks at the O. K. House, an' this +yere's notice to that effect.' + +"It's a cinch, of course, that none of us is that obtoose as to go +sayin' anything to pain this yere blind little Joolie; at the same +time no one regyards it as feas'ble to resent them threats of Missis +Rucker! She's a mighty sperited matron, Missis Rucker is, sperited to +the verge of bein' vindictive, an' rubbin' her fur the wrong way is +the same as rubbin' a bobcat's fur the wrong way. As a exercise thar's +nothin' in it. Besides, we're plumb used to it, owin' to her +threatenin' us about one thing or another constant. Menaces, that +a-way, is Missis Rucker's style. + +"Mike an' his Joolie wife don't live at the O. K. House, but only gets +their chuck thar. He allows that to do jestice to his art he's got to +have what he calls a 'no'th light,' an' so he goes meanderin' out on +the no'th side of town, an' jumps a empty shack. + +"Driv by a lack of money, mighty likely, Mike ain't in camp a week +before he makes it plenty plain that, onless he's headed off or +killed, he's goin' to paint Enright a whole lot. As a preelim'nary he +loores a passel of us over to his wickeyup to show us samples. + +"'That's my chef dever,' he says, bringin' for'ard a smudgy lookin' +canvas, plastered all over with reds an' browns. + +"We-all takes a slant at it, maintainin' ourselves meanwhile as grave +as a passel of owls. An' at that the most hawk-eyed in the outfit +can't make it look like nothin'. We-all hangs back in the straps, an' +waits for Peets to take the lead. For thar is the pretty little blind +Joolie wife, all y'ears an' lovin' int'rest, an' after what Nell an' +Missis Rucker has done said the gent who lacerates her feelin's is +lost. In sech a pinch Peets is our guidin' light. + +"'Massive!' says Peets, after a pause. + +"'Which she's shore a heap massive!' we murmurs, followin' Peets' +smoke. + +"'An' sech atmosphere!' Peets goes on. + +"'Atmosphere to give away!' we echoes. + +"At these yere encomiyums the pore pleased face of little Joolie is +beamin' like the sun. As for Mike, he assoomes a easy attitoode, same +as though compliments means nothin' to him. + +"'What's the subject?' Peets asks. + +"'That, my friend, is the _Linden in October_,' returns Mike, as +though he's showin' us a picture of heaven's front gate. 'Yes, the +_Linden in October_.' + +"'Which if this yere Pole,' whispers Texas to Cherokee, 'is able to +make anything out of that smear, he can shore see more things without +the aid of licker than any sport that ever spreads his blankets in +Cochise County.' + +"Texas is a heap careful not to let either Mike or the little Joolie +girl ketch on to what he says. + +"Also, it's worth recallin' that Mike an' the little Joolie is the +only wedded pa'r, of which the Southwest preeserved a record, that +don't bring bilious recollections to Texas of his former Laredo wife. + +[Illustration: "WHAT'S THE SUBJECT?" PEETS ASKS. "THAT, MY FRIEND, IS THE +'LINDEN IN OCTOBER,'" RETURNS MIKE, AS THOUGH HE'S A SHOWIN' US A PICTURE +OF HEAVEN'S FRONT GATE. p. 238.] + +"'Not but what thar's a wrong thar, Doc,' he insists, the time Peets +mentions it; 'not but what this yere Red Mike-Joolie sityooation +harbors a wrong. Only it's onavailable to 'llustrate the illyoosage I +suffers at the hands of my Laredo wife.' + +"After the _Linden_ Mike totes out mebby it's a dozen other smeary +squar's of canvas. We goes over 'em one by one, cockin' our eyes an' +turnin' our heads first one way an' then another, like a bloo jay +peerin' into a knothole. When Peets lets drive something about 'sky +effects,' an' 'fore-grounds,' an' 'middle-distance,' we stacks in all +sim'lar. Thar's nothin' to it; Mike an' the little Joolie girl puts in +a mighty pleasant hour. + +"Mike, feelin' hospit'ble, an' replyin' to a thirsty look which Jack +Moore sort o' sheds about the room, reegrets he ain't got no whiskey. + +"'My little Joolie objectin',' he explains. + +"'Oh, well,' speaks up Peets, who's plumb eager to bring them art +studies to a wind-up, 'when thar's famine in Canaan thar's corn in +Egypt. S'ppose we-all goes romancin' over to the Red Light an' licker +up. Thar's nothin' like nosepaint, took internal, for bringin' out a +picture's convincin' p'ints.' + +"'Right you be, Doc,' says Moore. 'It's only last week, when I myse'f +cuts the trail of Monte, who, as the froote of merely the seventh +drink, is sheddin' scaldin' tears over a three-sheet poster stuck onto +the corral gate. This yere stampede in color deepicts the death of +"Little Eva," as preesented in the _Uncle Tom_ show ragin' over to the +Bird Cage Op'ry House. Monte allows it's one of the most movin' things +he's ever met up with, an' protests between sobs ag'inst takin' out +the stage that day for its reg'lar trip. "Which it's a hour for +mournin'," he groans; an' he's shore shocked when the company insists. +As he throws free the brake he shakes the tears from his eyes, an' +says, "These yere corp'rations ain't got no heart!"' + +"If thar's ever any chance of Enright bein' that weak the sight of +them smudges an' smears settles it, an' while we stands shovin' the +Old Jordan along the Red Light bar, he allows to Mike that on the +whole he don't reckon he'll have himse'f painted none. Rememberin', +however, that it's a ground-hawg case with Mike, who needs the money, +Enright gives him a commission to paint Monte. + +"'Him bein' a histor'cal character, that a-way,' says Enright. + +"Monte is over in Tucson, but you should have heard that drunkard's +language when he's told. + +"'Whatever be you-all tryin' to do to me, Sam?' he wails. 'Ain't a +workin' man got no rights? Yere be I, the only gent in camp who has +actchooal dooties to perform, an' a plot is set afoot behind my back +to make me infamous!' + +"'It's to go over the Red Light bar,' explains Enright, 'to be a +horr'ble example for folks with a tendency to over-drink. As for you +yellin' like a pig onder a gate, who is it, I asks, that beguiles this +indigent artist party into camp, an' leaves him on our hands? Bein' +he's yere, I takes it that even your whiskey-drowned intell'gence +ree'lizes that this yere Mike, an' speshully the little blind Joolie, +has got to be fed.' + +"'Well, gents,' returns Monte, gulpin' down his grief with his +nosepaint, 'I reckons if it's your little game to use me as a +healthful moral inflooence, I'd lose out to go puttin' up a roar. All +the same, as sufferer in chief, I'm entitled to be more consulted by +you uplifters before ever you arranges to perpetchooate me to +poster'ty as a common jeer.' + +"Shore; these yere protests of Monte's ain't more'n half on the level. +After a fashion, he's plenty pleased. + +"'For,' he says, confidin' in Black Jack over his licker, 'it ain't +every longhorn of a stage driver whose picture is took by one of these +yere gifted Yooropeans.' + +"Black Jack agrees to this in full, for he's a good-hearted barkeep, +that a-way. + +"In doo time the picture's hung up back of the Red Light bar. +Regyarded as a portrait it's shore some desp'rate, an' even Enright +sort o' half reepents. Monte, after studyin' it a while, begins to get +sore in earnest. Them scales, like the scriptoors say, certainly do +fall from his eyes. + +"'Jack,' he says, appealin' to Moore, who happens to be present, 'does +that thing look like me?' + +"'Why, yes,' Jack replies, squintin' his left eye a heap critical; 'to +be shore it flatters you some, but then them artists gen'rally does.' + +"'Jack, if I'm that feeble as to go believin' what you says, I'd borry +a shotgun from the express company and blow off the top of my head. +That ain't the portrait of no hooman bein"--an' Monte raises a +dispa'rin' hand at the picture; 'it's a croode preesentation of some +onnacheral cross between a coyote and a cowskin trunk.' + +"Cherokee gets up from behind his lay-out, an' strolls over so's to +get a line on the picture. He takes a long an' disparagin' survey. + +"'It ain't that I'm incitin' you to voylence, Monte,' he remarks +final, 'but if you owes a dooty to s'ciety, don't forget that you owes +also a dooty to yourse'f. You'll be lackin' in se'f-respect if you +don't give Sam Enright two weeks to take that outrage down, an' if it +ain't removed by then you'll bust it.' + +"Black Jack is ag'in the picture, too. + +"'Not,' he says, 'that I wants to put the smother on it entire; only I +figger it'd look better in the post office, folks not makin' it so +much of a hangout. Regyarded commercial, it's a setback to the Red +Light. Some gent comes trackin' up intent on drinks, an' feelin' gala. +After one glance at Monte up thar it's all off. That reveller's +changed his mind, an' staggers out into the open ag'in without a word. +The joint is daily knocked for about the price of a stack of bloos, as +the direct result of that work of art. Which I'd as soon have a gila +monster in the winder.' + +"Mike ain't present none when all this yere flattery is flyin'. If he +was thar in person nothin' would have been said. Whoever'd be that +hardened as to go harrowin' up the sens'tive soul of a artist, even if +his work don't grade as corn-fed? + +"Some later tribyoote to his talents, however, reaches the y'ears of +Mike. On the back of Black Jack's protests the Lightnin' Bug, who's +come over from Red Dog for a little visit, drifts in. When he sees +Monte's portrait his eyes lights up like a honka-tonk on Saturday +night. + +"'Rattlesnakes an' stingin' lizards!' he cries; 'which I'm a Mexican +if you-all ain't gone an' got him painted! However do you-all manage? +I remembers when we captures him it's the last spring round-up but +one. Two weeks goes by before ever we gets him so he'll w'ar clothes! +An' even then we-all has to blindfold him an' back him in!' + +"'Whoever do you reckon that is, Bug?' asks Black Jack. + +"'It's that locoed Digger Injun, ain't it?' says the Bug; 'him we +corrals, that time, livin' on ants an' crickets, an' roots an' yarbs, +over in Potato canyon?' + +"'It's Monte.' + +"'Monte! Does anybody get killed about it?' + +"Black Jack mentions Mike as the artist. + +"'What, that Dutch galoot with the long ha'r?' says the Bug. + +"'Which he's a Pole.' + +"'Pole or Dutchman, what's the odds? I sees a party back in Looeyville +whose ha'r's most as long as his. We entices him to a barber shop on a +bet to have it cut, an' I'm ag'in the union if four flyin' squirrels +don't come scootin' out. They've been nestin' in it.' + +"The Bug swings lightly into the saddle after a while, an' goes +clatterin' back to Red Dog. No notice would have been took of what he +says, only Monte, who hears it from Black Jack, is that malev'lent he +goes an' tells Mike. + +"'You-all will make trouble between 'em, Monte,' Nell reemonstrates, +when Monte's braggin' in his besotted way about what he's done. + +"'That's all right, Nellie. Both of 'em's been insultin' me; Mike by +paintin' me so I'm a holy show, an' the Bug by lettin' on to take me +for a Digger buck. S'ppose the Bug downs Mike, or Mike does up the +Bug? Either way it's oats in your uncle Monte's feed box. That's me, +Nellie; that's your old uncle Monte every time! Which, when it comes +to cold intrigue, that a-way, I'm the swiftest sport in our set.' + +"On hearin' about the Bug from Monte Mike gets plenty intemp'rate. He +goes plumb in the air, an' stays thar. He gives it out that he's goin' +to prance over to Red Dog an' lay for the Bug. Nothin' but blood is +goin' to do him. + +"Thar's nothin' we can say or do to stop Mike, so after talkin' it +over a spell we deecides to throw him loose, Enright first sendin' +word that he's harmless, an' not to be bumped off. + +"Upon receivin' Enright's word the Red Dog chief passes on a warnin' +to the Bug. Mike mustn't, onder no circumstances, be killed. Bein' +he's a artist he's not reespons'ble. + +"'Me kill him!' cries the Bug, who's scandalized at the idee; 'me take +a gun to sech a insect! Gents, I've too much reespect for them good +old faithful .45's of mine to play it as low down on 'em as all +that.' + +"Which there leeniencies I allers feels is on account of the little +Joolie, an' the blind love she entertains for Mike. When the worst +does come we carefully conceals from her the troo details, an' insists +that the powder house goes off by itse'f. + +"Then Nell, with Tucson Jennie and Missis Rucker to back her, carries +the little Joolie girl the news. It's shore tough papers; an' Missis +Rucker an' Tucson Jennie is kept racin' an' runnin' an' riotin' +between the O. K. House an' Mike's wickeyup, freightin' over camphor +an' sim'lar reestor'tives to the little Joolie all night long, while +Nellie holds her head. + +"Does Mike's kickin' the bucket leave the little Joolie broke? It's +this a-way: You see we-all chips in, an' makes up a fa'rly moderate +pile to buy the _Linden in October_. + +"'It's to remember your gifted husband by,' explains Enright, as him +an' Peets an' Boggs goes over to clink down the gold, an' get the +_Linden_. 'This yere transcendent spec'men shall never leave our +hands.' + +"'Not while we live!' declar's Peets. + +"'It's a marv'lous picture!' returns the little Joolie girl, proud and +tearful both at once. + +"'Marv'lous!' repeats Peets; 'it's got the _Angelus_ beat four ways +from the Jack.' + +"'Which I should remark!' puts in Boggs. 'Why, Doc, this yere _Linden_ +of ours shore makes that _Angelus_ thing look like an old beer +stamp.' + +"These yere outpourin's of onreestricted admiration shore does set the +little Joolie to smilin' through her tears. Also, the bankroll they +brings her sends her back to her folks in style. + +"So you don't regyard it as the proper caper to go deceivin' the +little Joolie girl? That's preecisely the p'sition a Bible sharp over +in Tucson takes, when some party's mentionin' the business. + +"'You go tell that doubtin' Thomas of a sky-pilot,' says Peets, on +hearin' about it, 'that he can bet a ton of Watts' hymn books on it. +You-all say, too, for his pulpit guidance, that what looks like +deceit, that a-way, is often simple del'cacy, while Christian charity +freequent w'ars the face of fraud.' + +"But I'm gettin' ahead of the wagons. Mike, who's a heap heated, goes +lookin' for the Bug in the Tub of Blood S'loon. The Bug don't happen +to be vis'ble no whar in the scen'ry when Mike comes clatterin' in. By +way of a enterin' wedge Mike subscribes for a drink. As the Tub +barkeep goes settin' out the glasses Mike, with his custom'ry gifts +for gettin' himse'f in wrong, starts fomentin' trouble. An' at that +it's simply his ignorance, an' a conceited deesire to show off among +them Red Dogs. + +"As the Tub barkeep slams down the crockery Mike barks up sort o' +sharp an' peevish: + +"'The ice! Ain't you people got no ice?' + +"The Tub barkeep takes a sour squinch-owl look at Mike. Then he goes +softly swabbin' off the counter. + +"After a while he looks up an' says: + +"'Which you don't notice no swirlin' drifts of snow outside, do you? +You ain't been swallowed up in no blizzard, be you, comin' into town? +No, my stilted, stiff-laigged sheep of the mountain, we ain't got no +ice.' + +"Mike, feelin' some buffaloed by the barkeep's manner, don't say no +more. In silence he drinks his licker, an' then sets down at a table. + +"The barkeep, with the tail of his eye, continyoos to look him over. + +"'Whatever do you make of that crazy maverick,' he asks of a +freighter, who's jest rolled in from Lordsburg. 'The idee of him +askin' for ice in August!' + +"'Mebby he's the ha'r-brained party they sends word about from +Wolfville,' the freighter replies--'him who's out to crawl the Bug's +hump a whole lot?' + +"'That's the identical persimmon!' exclaims the barkeep, slammin' his +hand on the counter. 'Which I ought to have knowed it without bein' +told. I wonder if Peets, or some of them other Wolfville sports, puts +him up to come bully-raggin' round yere about ice to insult us?' + +"The freighter allows he'll edge into a pow-wow with Mike, an' feel +him out. + +"Planted at the same table, the freighter an' Mike is soon as thick as +thieves. They're gettin' along like two pups in a basket, when in +comes a disturbin' element in the shape of one of them half-hoss +half-alligator felons, whose distinguishin' characteristic is that +they're allers grouchy an' hostile. That's the drawback to Red Dog. It +certainly is the home camp of some of the most ornery reptiles, that +a-way! + +"The grouchy sorehead party, from the jump, gets dissatisfied about +Mike's ha'r, which he w'ars a foot long same as all artists. Which a +gent can't be no painter onless he's got ha'r like a cow pony. The +sorehead party marches up an' down by the table whar Mike an' the +freighter is swappin' lies, schemin' as to how he's goin' to make a +warlike hook-up with Mike. After a spell he thinks he sees his way +through, an' rounds to an' growls. + +"'What's that? Does one of your onparalleled tarrapins say something +deerog'tory about George Washin'ton?' + +"Both the freighter an' Mike looks up some amazed, but pleads not +guilty. They ain't, they says, even thinkin' of Washin'ton. + +"'Which I begs your parding,' returns Sorehead, snortin' mighty +haughty an' elab'rate; 'I fancies I hears some one make some +onbecomin' remark about Washin'ton. Mighty likely it's that licker I +drinkt last night.' + +"Two minutes later he halts ag'in. + +"'It ain't possible I'm mistook this time. An' at that I don't +precisely ketch what you offensive ground-owls is observin' about +Thomas Jefferson?' + +"Mike an' the Lordsburg freighter insists vehement that thar's been no +alloosion to Jefferson, none whatever. + +"'Parding!' Sorehead snorts; 'ag'in I asks parding! As former, I finds +I'm barkin' at a bunch of leaves. My y'ear deeceives me into thinkin' +that you two fool ground-owls is indulgin' in reecrim'nations ag'inst +Thomas Jefferson.' + +"It's the third time, an' Sorehead's back, neck bowed an' fingers +workin'. + +"'Now thar's no error! Which one of you cheap prairie dogs makes that +low-flung statement about old Andy Jackson? Let him speak up, an' I'll +give him a hundred dollars before devourin' his heart.' + +"'No one mentions Jackson,' says Mike, who's becomin' frightened an' +fretted; 'whatever's the idee of any one talkin' about Jackson, +anyhow?' + +"'Oh, ho! Perhaps, my bold galoot, you think old Andy ain't worth +talkin' about!' + +"Sayin' which, that sorehead malcontent reaches for Mike, an' the two +go sailin' 'round the room permiscus. Sorehead picks Mike up, an' +sweeps a cord or two of glasswar' off the bar with him. Then he +employs him in bringin' down a picture from the wall. After which he +nacherally tosses him hither an' yon in the most irrel'vant way. + +"Sorehead has jest reached up with Mike, an' smashed a chandelier +carryin' fourteen coal-oil lamps, when in t'ars the Lightnin' Bug, +white an' frothin'. The Bug don't waste no time lookin' for holds, but +casyooally, yet no less s'fficiently, snags onto Sorehead. Fixin' his +ten claws in him, the Bug fo'thwith embarks upon sech feats in the +way of ground an' lofty tumblin' with that gladiator, as to make what +happens to Mike seem pooerile. + +"'Don't you-all know,' shouts the Bug, as, havin' done broke a cha'r +with Sorehead, he proceeds to deevote what's left of him to smashin' a +table--'don't you-all know, you abandoned profligate, that this yere +artist you've been maltreatin' is a pers'nal friend of mine, yere +present in Red Dog to confab with me on important affairs? An' is it +for a houseless sot like you to take to minglin' with him malignant? +Yereafter don't you-all so much as presoome to breathe without first +gettin' my permission so to do in writin'!' + +"As closin' the incident the Bug sends Sorehead hurtlin' through a +window, sash an' all. After which he dusts off his hands an' says: + +"'Gents, let's licker.' + +"The barkeep's that gratified he declar's the drinks is on the Tub. + +"'Also, the glass an' sash, Bug,' he adds. + +"Bein' refreshed, the Bug tenderly collects Mike, who's in a frayed +an' fragmentary condition, an' gently freights him over to us on a +buckboard. It's a week before Peets allows he's ag'in ready for the +show ring, an' he uses up enough co't plaster on him to kyarpet the +Red Light. Little Joolie? We let's on to her that Mike meets up with a +she grizzly an' her cubs, an' while he cleans up that fam'ly he +nacherally gets chewed. + +"'Mike's shorely some abrated, ma'am,' explains Peets; 'but he's +mendin' fast. When I first lays eyes on him, after he encounters that +bevy of b'ars, it's a question if his skin'll hold his principles. But +don't take on, Ma'am; now I've got him headed right he'll be as good +as new in a week. Don't forget, too, that he shore does land that band +of grizzlies in the scrap-heap.' + +"Mike emerges from the hands of Peets filled with a pecooliar furrin' +form of wrath, an' talkin' about his honor. It's Sorehead he's after +now. As a noble Pole, he says, he has been most contoomeliously used, +an' insists upon a dooel. Not with the Bug, who's withdrew them +orig'nal jedgments concernin' old Monte's portrait, an' substitooted +tharfor the view that said picture's bound to become the artistic +pride an' joy of Arizona. Mike wants to fight the onreegen'rate +Sorehead. + +"In the flush of their new friendship Mike asks the Bug to heel an' +handle him. Also, it's warmin' to your better nacher to note the +enthoosiasm wharwith the Bug takes up his dooties. + +"'It'll be six-shooters at ten paces,' he explains to Mike; 'an' if +you only shoots like you paints, we'll send that tramp whar the wicked +cease from troublin' an' the weary are at rest.' + +"The Red Dog chief gives his word to Enright that Mike ain't in no +danger. + +"'Comin' down to cases,' says the Red Dog chief; 'it's even money that +this yere Sorehead crawfishes. If he don't we've got it all set up to +hand him the Bug, instead of that Red Mike artist of yours. So you see +thar's lit'rally nothin' for you-all wolves to worry over at all.' + +"'We-all wolves ain't in the habit of worryin' to any astoundin' +extent,' returns Enright, some rigid; 'none the less, I allows I'll +take a look through the sights myse'f, merely by way of makin' shore +which way the gun is p'inted. Thar's reasons, one of 'em a lovin' +little blind girl, why we're not so plumb partic'lar about havin' this +yere alleged artist party put over the jump.' + +"The fight's a week away, an' by advice of the Bug, Mike decides to +put a polish on his shootin'. This yere's reckoned a bright idee, the +more since as near as we-all can jedge Mike never does pull a trigger +once since when his mother rocks his cradle an' warms his milk. + +"'Only,' warns Enright, as Mike goes makin' prep'rations, 'don't +you-all go aimin' towards town none. We don't want no neeophytes +bombardin' the village, which y'ar in an' y'ar out sees bullets enough +in the nacheral onfoldment of eevents.' + +"Mike, not havin' no gun, borrys a .45 of Moore. Thus equipped, he +secoores some cartridges at the Noo York store, an' la'nches forth. No +one goes with him, since he allows he'll shoot better if he's by +himse'f. + +"Thar's a powder house, belongin' to the Copper Queen Mine, about a +mile outside of town. It stands off by itse'f an' nothin' near it, no +one honin' much to live neighbor to a ton or two of powder. It's about +fifth drink time the mornin' Mike seelects for his practice shootin' +when, like a bolt from the bloo, that Copper Queen powder house goes +up with a most emphatic whang! What Peets calls the 'concussion' +breaks windows in the Wells-Fargo office, an' shakes up the Red Light +to that extent it brings down Monte's picture an' busts it to forty +flinders on the bottles. + +"'Which for a moment,' says Black Jack, commentin' on the gen'ral mess +it makes, 'I thinks it's one of Colonel Sterett's _Coyote_ editorials +on the licker question.' + +"That powder blow-up marks the onforchoonate last of Mike. Since he +never does show up no more, an' a Mexican tendin' goats in the +vicin'ty informs us he sees him pinnin' a target on the r'ar elevation +of the powder house jest prior to the explosion, it's the common +feelin' that the blow-up's caused by one of Mike's bullets, an' that +Mike an' the powder reepos'tory takes flight simooltaneous. Only, as +already set fo'th, Peets claims that Mike knows what's comin'. Mebby +Peets is right, an' mebby Mike that a-way commits sooicide. Whichever +it is, sooicide or accident, it's a mighty complete success; for the +only trace we're able to find of either Mike or the powder house is a +most elab'rate hole in the ground. + +"'The same bein', as I holds, a most excellent feachure,' says Boggs, +who loathes foonerals. 'This yere powder house way of cashin' in meets +with my approval. It shore don't leave no reemains!'" + + + + +X + +HOW TUTT SHOT TEXAS THOMPSON + + +"Which they starts the yarn in Red Dog that the shootin' that time +between Tutt an' Texas is born of sectional feelin', an' because +Texas is a southern gent, while Tutt comes from the No'th. Sech +explainations is absurd--as Doc Peets well says. Also, I'm yere to go +one word further an' state that, while it's like them Red Dogs, idle +an' mendacious as they freequent be, to go fosterin' sech fictions, +thar ain't a syllable of trooth tharin from soda to hock. The +flareup has its start in them two children, Annalinda Thompson an' +little Enright Peets, an' what sentiments of rivalry nacherally +seizes on Tutt an' Texas as parent an' uncle reespective." + +"Still there must have been some degree of sectional feeling among +you," I said, more by way of stirring my old cattleman up than any +nobler purpose; "coming some of you from the South, and others from +the North, it would have been strange indeed had it been otherwise." + +"Which it's shore strange, then. Them Wolfville pards of mine is one +an' all United States men. They ain't Southern men, nor No'thern men, +nor Eastern men, nor even Western men. Likewise, the improodent sport +who'd go trackin' 'round, ondertaikin' to designate 'em as sech, would +get toomultuous action, plenty soon and plenty of it. + +"Why, take Texas himse'f: Thar's a fly-by-night party pesterin' 'round +camp for a space, who lets on he's from the same neck of woods as +Texas. This yere annoyin' fraud is a heap proud of it, too, an' makes +a speshulty of bein' caught a lot in Texas' company. He figgers it +gives him a standin'. + +"One mornin', when only a few of us is pervadin' 'round, he plants +himse'f plumb comfortable an' important in a Red Light cha'r, an' +followin' the 'nitial drink for the day goes to talkin' with Texas. + +"As he sets thar, all fav'rable an' free, thar comes trackin' in a +aged Eastern gent, who's been negotiatin' with Armstrong about +business concernin' the Noo York store. The aged Eastern shorthorn +goes rockin' up to the counter, an' p'litely lets on to Black Jack +that he'll licker. As he does so this yere firegilt party who boasts +he's of the same range an' breed as Texas speaks up, sharp an' coarse, +like the bark of a dog: + +"'Yere, you! I wants a word or two with you-all!' + +"With that for a start he onfurls what he preetends is his grievances, +the same bein' because of somethin' the aged Eastern sport does or +don't do comin' over on Monte's stage--which they're fellow passengers +that time, it seems--an' next he cuts loose, an' goes to vitooperatin' +an' reecrim'natin', an' pilin' insult on epithet, that a-way, to beat +four of a kind. Which he certainly does give that aged Eastern person +a layin' out! Shore; he's jest showin' off at that, an' tryin' to +impress Texas. + +"At the beginnin' the aged Eastern gent stands like he's dazed, onable +to collect himse'f. However, he gets his mental feet onder him, an' +allowin' he won't stay none to listen to sech tirades, tucks away his +nosepaint an' pulls out. + +"After he's gone the vitooperative party wheels so's to face Texas, +an' says--mighty pleasant an' agree'ble, like the object of the +meetin's been most happ'ly accomplished: + +"'Thar, that shows you.' + +"'Whatever does it show?' Texas asks, some grim. + +"'Which it shows the difference between a No'thern gent an' a Southern +gent. To be shore, that old cimmaron ain't half my size an' is twict +my age, but all the same, Texas, if he's from the South, you bet, like +you an' me, he'd tore into me, win or lose, if he'd got killed!' + +"'You think so?' says Texas, his eyes becomin' as hard an' glitterin' +as a snake's. 'Now let me tell you something, my lionhearted friend. +Thar's brave men South, an' brave men No'th. Also, thar's quitters; +quitters at both ends of that No'thern-Southern trail who'll go into +the water like a mink. Accordin' to my experiences, an' I've been +dallyin' with hoomanity in the herd for quite some time, thar's +nothin' in that geographical bluff of yours at all. Moreover, I +reckons that before I'm through, seein' now you've got me goin', I'll +prove it. For a starter, then, takin' your say-so for it, you're a +Southern man?' + +"'Which that's shore c'rrect,' the other responds, but feeble; 'you +an' me, as I says former, is both Southern men.' + +"'_Bueno!_ Now as calk'lated to demonstrate how plumb onfounded is +them theeries of yours'--yere Texas gets up, an' kicks his cha'r back +so he's got room--'I has pleasure in informin' you that you're a +onmitigated hoss-thief;--an' you don't dare stand up. Yes, sir; you're +onfit to drink with a nigger or eat with a dog;--an' you'll set thar +an' take it.' + +"Which that aboosive party, pale as paper, certainly does 'set thar +an' take it' preecisely as Texas prophecies; an' after glowerin' at +him, red-eyed an' f'rocious for a moment, Texas sticks his paws in his +jeans, an' sa'nters off. + +"It's jest as well. Why, if that humbug so much as curls a lip or +crooks a finger, after Texas takes to enunciatin' them prop'sitions in +philosophy, Texas'd have tacked him to the table with his bowie an' +left him kickin', same as them goggled-eyed professors who calls +themselves nacheralists does some buzzin' fly with a pin. + +"'Which, if thar's anything,' Texas explains to Enright, 'that makes +me tired partic'lar, it's them cracks about No'th an' South. If I was +range boss for these yere United States I'd shore have them +deescriptives legislated into a cap'tal offence.' + +"'Sech observations as that narrow tarrapin onbosoms,' comments +Enright, 'only goes to show how shallow he is. Comin' down to the +turn, even that old Eastern shorthorn's walkin' away from him don't +necessar'ly mean a lack of sand. Folks does a heap of runnin' in this +vale of tears, but upon various an' varyin' argyooments. A gent runs +from a polecat, an' he runs from a b'ar; but the reason ain't the +same.' + +"Thar's no sectionalisms in Tutt's differences with Texas, none +whatever. Also, while it finds, as I holds, its roots in Annalinda an' +little Enright Peets, it don't arise from nothin' which them babies +does to one another. Two pups in the same basket, two birds on the +same bough, couldn't have got along more harmon'ous. The moment Nell +brings little Enright Peets over to see Annalinda them children falls +together like a shock of oats, an' at what times they're onhobbled of +fam'ly reestrictions an' footloose so to do, you'd see 'em playin' +'round from sun-up till dark, same as a pa'r of angels. + +"Troo, Annalinda does domineer over little Enright Peets, an' makes +him fetch an' carry an' wait on her; an' thar's times, too, when she +shore beats him up with a stick or quirt some lib'ral. But what else +would you expect? I even encounters little Enright Peets, down on +all-fours, an' Annalinda ridin' him like he's a hoss. Likewise, she's +kickin' his ribs a heap, to make him go faster. But that's nothin'; +them two babies is only playin'. + +"Not that I'm none so shore it ain't this yere last identical +spectacle which gives Nell the notion of them two children marryin' at +some footure day. That, however, is merest surmise, an' in a manner +onimportant. What I'd like to get proned into you-all is that Texas +an' Tutt lockin' horns like they does has its single cause in them +latent jealousies an' struggles for social preecedence, which is bound +to occur between a only father an' a only uncle wharever found. Which +the single safegyard lies in sech a multitoode of fathers an' uncles +as renders 'em common. To possess but one of each makes 'em puffed up +an' pride-blown, an' engenders a mootual uppishness which before all +is over is shore to man'fest itse'f in war. + +"Thar's one boast we-all is able to make, however. That clash between +Tutt an' Texas is the only shore-enough trouble which ever breaks out +among the boys. You onderstands, of course, that when I says 'boys' +that a-way, I alloodes to Enright an' Peets an' them others who +constitootes Wolfville's social an' commercial backbone. Thar's other +embroglios more or less smoky an' permiscus, which gets pulled off one +way an' another, but they ain't held to apply to us of rights. For +sech alien hookups, so to speak, we reefooses all reespons'bility. +Which we regyards them escapades as fortooitous, an' declines 'em +utter. Tutt's goin' against Texas is the only war-jig we feels to be +reely Wolfville's." + +"You forget," I said teasingly, "the shooting between Boggs and Tutt, +as incident to the Washerwoman's War." + +"Which, that?" There was impatience tinged with acrimony in the tones. +"That's nothin' more'n gallantry. It's what's to be looked for whar +thar's ladies about, an' is doo to a over-effervescence of sperit, +common to the younger males of our species when made gala an' giddy by +the alloorin' flutter of a petticoat. Boggs an' Tutt don't honestly +mean them bullets none. Also, if you-all is goin' to keep on with your +imbecile interruptions, I'll quit." + +Abject apologies on my part, supported by equally abject promises of +reform. + +The old gentleman, thus mollified, resumed: + +"Goin' back to this yere Tutt-Texas collision, thar's no denyin', an' +be fa'r about it, but what Tutt has grounds. For goin' on five years +he's been looked up to as the only father in camp, an' for Texas to +appear at what you-all might call the 'leventh hour an' go crowdin' +disdainfully into the picture on nothin' more'n bein' a uncle, is +preepost'rous. To prance 'round on sech a meager showin', puttin' on +the dog he does, an' all in a somber, overbearin' way like he's +packin' the world on his shoulders an' we-all's got to be a heap +careful not to do nothin' to him to make him drop it, is inexcoosable +to the verge of outrage. No rel'tive in the third or fo'th degree is +jestified to assoome sech sooperiorities; an' Enright tells Texas so +after Peets digs the lead out of the thick of his laig. + +"Which we gets orig'nal notice about Annalinda, when a passel of us, +as is our custom followin' first drink time in the evenin', drifts +into the post office. Some gets letters, some don't; an' Texas, who, +as a roole, don't have no voloominous correspondence, is sayin' that +he has the same feelin' about letters he has about trant'lers, as +bein' a heap more likely to sting you than anything else, when the +postmaster shoves him out one. + +"It's from Laredo, an' when Texas gets a glimpse at the mark on it he +lets it fall onopened to the floor. + +"'It's my former wife!' he says, with a shudder. 'Yere she is, +startin' in to get the upper hand of me ag'in.' + +"'Nonsense!' says Peets, pickin' up the letter, 'it's from some +lawyers. Can't you see their names yere up in the corner?' + +"'That don't mean nothin',' Texas whispers--he's shore a heap shook; +'it'd be about her speed, as she goes plottin' afresh to ondermine me +in my present peace, to rope up a law-wolf to show her how.' + +"Bein' urged by Peets, an' the balance of us asshorin' him we'll stand +pat in his destinies come what may an' defend him to the bitter +finish, Texas manages to open the envelope. As he stands thar readin' +the scare in his face begins to fade in favor of a look of gloom. + +"'Gents,' he says, at last, 'it's my brother Ed. He's cashed in.' We +expresses the reg'lation reegrets, an' Texas continyoos: 'Ed leaves me +his baby girl, Annalinda--she's my niece.' After a pause he adds: +'This yere shore requires consideration.' + +"'These law sharps,' explains Texas, when we're organized all sociable +in the Red Light, an' Black Jack's come through on right an' reg'lar +lines, 'allows it's Ed's dyin' reequest that I take an' ride paternal +herd on this infant child.' + +"'But how about its mother?' urges Enright. + +"'Which it ain't got none. Its mother dies two years ago. Now Ed's +packed in, that baby's been whipsawed; it's a full-fledged orphan, +goin' an' comin'.' + +"'Ain't thar no rel'tives on the mother's side?' asks Nell, from over +back of Cherokee's lay out. + +"'Meanest folks, Nellie,' says Texas, 'bar none, between the Colorado +an' the Mississippi. You see they're kin to my Laredo wife, me an' Ed +both marryin' into the same tribe. Which it shows the Thompson +intell'gence. Thar ain't a Thompson yet who don't need a guardeen +constant.' + +"After no end of discussion that a-way it's onderstood to be the +gen'ral notion that Texas ought to bring Ed's orphan baby to +Wolfville. + +"'But s'ppose,' says Texas, 'that in spite of Ed wantin' me to cast my +protectin' pinions over this yere infant, its mother's outfit, +thinkin' mebby to shake me down for some _dinero_, objects?' + +"'In which case,' says Boggs, who's plumb interested, 'you sends for +me, Texas, an' we mavericks it. You ain't goin' to let no sech callous +an' onfeelin' gang as your wife's folks go 'round dictatin' about Ed's +Annalinda child, be you, an' givin' you a stand-off? Which you're +only tryin' to execoote Ed's dying behests.' + +"It's settled final that Texas, ag'inst whatever opp'sition, has got +to bring on Annalinda to us. That disposed of, it next comes +nacherally up as a question how, when we gets Annalinda safe to +Wolfville, she's goin' to be took care of. + +"'Which the O. K. Restauraw won't do,' Texas says, lookin' anxious out +of the tail of his eye at Enright an' Peets. 'Mind, I ain't hintin' +nothin' ag'inst Missis Rucker, who hasn't got her Southwest equal at +flapjacks, but I submits that for a plastic child that a-way, at a +time when it receives impressions easy, to daily witness the way she +maltreats Rucker, is to go givin' that infant wrong idees of what's +coming to husbands as a whole. I'm a hard man, gents; but I don't aim +to bring up this yere Annalinda baby so that one day she's encouraged +to go handin' out the racket to some onforchoonate sport, which my +Laredo wife hands me.' + +"'Thar's reasons other than Missis Rucker,' Enright is quick to +observe, 'why the O. K. House ain't the fittest place for infancy, +an' any discussion of our esteemable hostess in them marital +attitoodes of hers is sooperfluous. S'ppose we lets it go, without +elab'ration, that the O. K. House, from nursery standp'ints, won't +do.' + +"Cherokee thinks that mighty likely a good way'd be to have Annalinda +live with Tutt an' Tucson Jennie. + +"Peets shakes his sagacious head. + +"'Dave'll onderstand my p'sition to be purely scientific,' he says, +glancin' across at Tutt, 'when I states that sech a move'd be a error. +Tucson Jennie, as wife an' mother, is as fine as silk. But she's also +a female woman, an' owns a papoose of her own. Thar's inborn reasons +why woman, as sech, while sympathetic an' gen'rally speakin' plumb +lovely, is oncapable onder certain circumstances of a squar' deal. In +this yere business of babies, for example, thar's existed throughout +the ages a onbridgable gulf in her eyes between her offspring an' +other folks' offspring; an' while disclaiming all disloyalty to Tucson +Jennie, I'm obleeged to say that as between Annalinda an' little +Enright Peets, she wouldn't be cap'ble of a even break. Do I +overstate the trooth, Dave?' + +"'None whatever,' Tutt returns. 'What you discovers scientific, Doc, I +learns more painfully as husband an' father. I fully agrees that when +it comes to other folks' children no female mother can hold the +onbiased scales.' + +"'Thar's French an' his wife?' chirps Nell, her elbow on the lay-out, +an' her little round chin in her fist; 'thar's the Frenches, over to +the corrals? French an' Benson Annie ain't got no children, an' they'd +be pleased to death at havin' Annalinda.' + +"'But be they competent?' asks Texas, over whom a feelin' of +se'f-importance is already beginnin' to creep like ivy on a wall. 'I +don't want to be considered a carper, but as I sees it I'd be doin' +less'n my dooty as a uncle if I fails to ask, Be them Frenches +competent?' + +"'You'll have to rope up a nurse some'ers, anyhow, Texas,' Boggs puts +in. 'Thar's dozens of them good-nachered fat young senoritas among the +Mexicans who'll do. The nurse would know her business, even if the +Frenches don't.' + +"'Two nurses,' declar's Tutt. 'Bein' a father, I savvys the nurse +game from start to finish. You'll need two; one to hold it, an' one to +fetch it things.' + +"'But about them Frenches?' inquires Jack Moore. 'Ain't we goin' a +little fast? Mebby they themselves has objections.' + +"'Which they'd look mighty well,' observes Cherokee, riflin' the deck +an' snappin' it into the box plenty vicious, 'to go 'round objectin' +after Nellie yere's done put 'em in nom'nation for this trust.' + +"'Not that they'd reeject it haughty,' explains Moore; 'but, as Texas +himse'f says, who's to know, they bein' mighty modest people, that +they'll regyard themselves as comp'tent? The Frenches ain't had no +practice, an' thar's nothin' easier than a misdeal about a youngone. +Thar's a brainless mother saws her baby off on me over in Prescott one +day, while she goes cavortin' into a store to buy a frock, an' you-all +can go put a bet on it I'm raisin' the he'pless long yell inside of +the first minute. This takin' charge of babies ain't no sech pushover +as it looks. It's certainly no work for amatoors.' + +"'Thar's nothin' in them doubts, Jack,' Boggs chips in confidently. +'Even if them Frenches ain't had no practice, an' the nurses should +fall down, thar's dozens of us who'll be ever at the elbow of that +household; an' if in their ignorance they takes to bunglin' the play +we'll be down on 'em in the cockin' of a winchester to give 'em the +proper steer.' + +"'I reckon, Nellie,' says Texas, lookin' wistful across at Nell, +'that if some of the boys yere'll stand your watch as lookout, +you'd put in a day layin' in a outfit of duds? You could be doin' +it, you know, while I'm down in Laredo, treating with them hostiles +for possession.' + +"'Shore,' an' Nellie smiles at the prospect. 'Which I'll jest go +stampedin' over to Tucson for 'em, too. How old is Annalinda?' + +"Texas gives Annalinda's age as three. + +"'She'll be four next fall,' says he; 'I remembers Ed writes me she's +born durin' the beef round-up.' + +"'In that case,' comments Enright, 'she ought to stand about eight +hands high. In clawin' together said raiment, Nellie, that'll give you +some impression of size.' + +"'An', Nellie,' continyoos Texas, 'my idee is you'll want to change +in say a thousand dollars?' + +"'Why, Texas, you talk like you're locoed. One hundred'll win out all +the clothes she could sp'ile, w'ar or t'ar to pieces in a year.' + +"'Shore,' coincides Tutt; 'take little Enright Peets. One hundred +_pesos_ leaves him lookin' like a circus.' + +"'But Annalinda,' objects Texas doubtfully, 'is a She. It costs more +for girls. That Laredo wife of mine'd blow in the price of sixty head +of cattle, an' then allow she ain't half dressed.' + +"'One hundred'll turn the trick,' Nell insists. + +"All that night we sets up discussin' an' considerin'. The more we +talks the better we likes that Annalinda idee. + +"At sun-up, b'arin' the best wishes of all, Texas cinches a hull into +his quickest pony, an' hits the trail for Tucson to take the railroad +kyars for Laredo. + +"'Which, onless they gives me more of a battle than I anticipates,' he +remarks, as he pushes his feet into the stirrup, 'I'll be back by ten +days.' + +"'An', Texas,' says Boggs, detainin' him by the bridle rein, 'you-all +beat it into that baby that I'm her Uncle Dan. It'll give you +something to do comin' back.' + +"'Which, jedgin' from what I goes through that day in Prescott,' +remarks Moore, mighty cynical, 'Texas'll have plenty to do.' + +"Texas don't meet up with no partic'lar Laredo opposition, them +relatives appearin' almost eager to give him Annalinda. One of 'em +even goes the insultin' len'th of offerin' to split the expense, but +withdraws his bluff when Texas threatens to brain him with a +six-shooter. + +"Boggs, hearin' of this Laredo willin'ness, can't onderstand it no +how. + +"'It's too many for me,' he says. 'If it's me, now, I'd have clung to +that blessed baby till the cows come home. They must shore be +deeficient in taste, them Laredo yahoos!' + +"As exhibitin' how soon bein' moved into cel'bration as a uncle begins +to tell on Texas he ups an' in the fullness of his vanity deecides, +even before he arrives at Laredo, ag'inst the scheme which the camp's +half laid out about the Frenches an' Annalinda, an' arranges to have +a 'doby of his own. It's a blow to the Frenches, too, for since we +notifies 'em, they has set their hearts on the racket. + +"But Texas is immov'ble. + +"'Ed's dyin',' says he, 'an' namin' me to be reespons'ble for +Annalinda, creates a sityooation best met by me havin' a wickeyup of +my own. I'm sorry to disapp'int, but after matoore reeflection, that +a-way, I've conclooded to play a lone hand.' + +"While he's away Texas goes projectin' 'round an' cuts out a couple of +old black mammies from a day nursery over in Dallas, an' brings 'em +along. They an' Annalinda rides over from Tucson in the stage; but, +bein' more familiar with the saddle, an' because he's better able +tharfrom to soopervise an' go dictatin' terms to Monte, he himse'f +comes on his pony. + +"'An', gents,' whines Monte, as, throwin' down the reins, he heads for +the Red Light bar, 'between us he ain't the same Texas. That +Annalinda child has shore changed him turrible. All the way from +Tucson, when he ain't crowdin' up to the wheel to give orders to them +Senegambians about how to hold or when to feed her, he's menacin' at +me. That's why I'm three hours late. At rough places it looks like +thar ain't no name mean enough for him to call me; an' once, when +the front wheel jolts into a chuckhole an' Annalinda sets up a +squall, he pulls a gun an' threatens in the most frenzied way to shoot +me up. "You be more careful," he roars, "or I'll blow you plumb off +your perch! Childhood, that a-way, is a fragile flower; an' if you +figgers I'll set yere an', in the tender instance of my own pers'nal +niece, see some booze-besotted drunkard break that flower short off +at the stalk, I'll fool you up a whole lot." An' do you-all know,' +Monte concloodes, almost with a sob, 'he never does let down the +hammer of his .45 ag'in for most a mile.' + +"Annalinda is plumb pretty. The whole camp goes her way like a +landslide. Tucson Jennie approves of her--with reeservations, of +course, in favor of little Enright Peets; Missis Rucker finds time to +snatch a few moments, between feedin' us an' bossin' Rucker, to go see +her every day; while, as for Nell, she's in an' out of Texas' 'doby +mornin', noon an' night to sech extents that half the time Cherokee +ain't got no lookout, an' when he has it's Boggs. + +[Illustration: "HIM AN' ANNALINDA SHORE DO CONSTITOOTE A PICTURE. 'THAR'S +A PA'R TO DRAW TO,' SAYS NELL TO TEXAS, HER EYES LIKE BROWN DIAMONDS." +p. 281.] + +"Nell brings over little Enright Peets, an' thar's no backin' away +from it him an' Annalinda shore do constitoote a picture. + +"'Thar's a pa'r to draw to!' says Nell to Texas, her eyes like +diamonds. + +"Bein' romantic, like all girls, an' full of fancies that a-way, Nell +indulges in playful specyoolations about Annalinda an' little Enright +Peets gettin' married later on. Not that she intends anything, +although Texas takes it plenty serious, which shows how his egotism is +already workin' overtime. + +"When Monte puts up them groans about how Texas is changed, we-all +lays it to the complainin' habit which, on account of whiskey mebby, +has got to be second nacher with him. He's always kickin' about +something; an' so, nacherally, when he onbosoms himse'f of that howl +about Texas, we don't pay no speshul heed. It ain't three days, +however, before it begins to break on us that for once Monte's right. +Texas has certainly changed. Thar's a sooperior manner, what you'd +call a loftiness, about him, which is hard to onderstand an' harder +to put up with. It gets to be his habit constant to reemark in a +wearied way, as he slops out his drinks, that we-all'll have to +excoose him talkin' to us much, because he's got cares on his mind, +besides bein' played out on account of settin' up all night with +Annalinda. + +"'Which she's sheddin' her milk teeth,' he'd say, 'an' it makes her +petyoolant.' + +"After which he'd turn away in dignified tol'ration, same as if we're +too low an' dull to a'preeciate what he has to b'ar. + +"Or, ag'in--an' always before the draw--he'd throw down his hand in a +poker game, an' scramble to his feet, sayin': + +"'Heavens! I forgets about that Annalinda child!' + +"An' with that he'd go skallyhootin' off into space, leavin' us +planted thar with a misdeal on our hands, an' each one of us holdin' +mebby better than aces-up, an' feelin' shore we could have filled. +It's nothin' less'n awful the way he acts; an' that we lets him get +away with it exhibits them sentiments of Christian charity which +permeates our breasts. + +"Thar's the way, too, he goes hectorin' at Boggs! Two occasions in +partic'lar I reecalls; an' it's only Boggs' forbearance that +hostil'ties don't ensoo. One time when Annalinda's out for a walk with +her two old black mammies Boggs crosses up with the outfit an' kisses +Annalinda. Wharupon Texas yells out from across the street, like he's +been bit by a rattlesnake: + +"'Don't do that, Dan! You'll mebby give her something. In Mother +Shrewsbury's "What Ails Babies and Why" it's laid down emphatic that +you mustn't kiss 'em.' + +"'But you kisses her,' retorts Boggs. + +"'Me? But I'm her uncle. Besides, I only kisses her hands. Which I'll +permit you-all to kiss her hands, Dan, if that'll do you. Only don't +you go to overplay it none. Don't forget that hands is the limit, an' +it's thar whar you gets off.' + +"'Which I ain't none shore,' says Boggs, who's some hurt, as he's +talkin' the thing over with Enright an' Cherokee in the Red +Light--'which I ain't none shore but Texas is right; only he oughtn't +to throw out them rooles of health of his so plumb offensive. You'd +have reckoned from the row he makes I'm eatin' Annalinda.' + +"Another time Boggs gives Annalinda his six-shooter to play with, she +havin' deemanded it with screams. Texas comes steamin' up. + +"'Dan,' he cries, grabbin' the weepon from Annalinda, 'sometimes I +asks myse'f in all ser'ousness be you got common sense! Is this yere a +snare you're settin' for this innocent child? Do you-all want her to +blow her head plumb off?' + +"'But, Texas,' Boggs expostyoolates, 'thar ain't a chance. How's +she goin' to cock that gun, an' the mainspring fifteen pounds +resistance?' + +"'But she might drop it.' + +"'Which, if she does, it can't go off none; I sets the hammer between +two shells on purpose.' + +"'Whoever's bringin' up this yere baby, you or me?' Texas deemands, as +he tosses Boggs his gun. 'Please don't pass her no more artillery. If +it's got to whar her existence is goin' to be a failure onless she's +foolin' with a gun, I as her uncle preefers to furnish said hardware +myse'f.' + +"Shore, Boggs stands it, it's so evident Texas is onhinged. + +"'An' if you look at it straight it ain't no wonder, neither,' says +Boggs, who's mighty forgivin' that a-way. 'It's apples to ashes if you +was to suddenly up an' enrich any of us with a niece like Annalinda, +we-all in goin' crazy over her 'd give Texas kyards an' spades.' + +"Texas, who's always readin' medicine books, likes to go bulgin' +'round eloocidatin' about measles an' scarlet fever an' whoopin' +cough, an' what other maladies is allers layin' in wait to bushwhack +infancy. At sech moments he's plenty speecious an' foxy, so's to trap +us into deebates with him. Mebby it'll be about the mumps, an' what's +to be done; an' then, after he gets us goin', he'll r'ar back the +actchooal image of insult an' floor us with 'Mother Shrewsbury.' It +ain't no overstatin' a sityooation to say he pursoos these yere +tactics ontil he's the admitted pest of the camp, an' thar ain't one +of us but would sooner see a passel of Apaches comin' than him. He +can't confab two minutes about Annalinda but he grows so insultin' you +simply has to hold onto your manhood by the scruff of the neck not to +go for him. + +"Even Enright ain't exempt. It comes out casyooally one evenin', as +Texas goes layin' down the law about how he's r'arin' Annalinda, that +Enright's mother was wont to sooth an' engage his infantile hours with +a sugar-rag an' a string of spools. Which you should have shore seen +Texas look at him! Not with reespect, mind you; not like he's heard +anything worth while or interestin'. But like he's sayin' to himse'f, +'An' you sets thar offerin' yourse'f as a argyooment in favor of +sugar-rags an' strings of spools! On the back of sech a warnin' you +don't figger none I'll go givin' sugar-rags an' strings of spools to +Annalinda, do you?' While he's thinkin' this he grins that patronizin' +it'd set your teeth on edge. + +"Texas in a simple sperit of vain-glory'd take advantage of Tutt bein' +a father that a-way to back him into a corner; an' then, ignorin' the +rest of us as belongin' to the barb'rous herd, he'd insist on +discussin' skunk oil as a remedy for croup. An' the worst of it is he +finally has Tutt, who's bad enough before, gyratin' 'round, his addled +nose to the sky in redoubled scorn of childless men. From the two +sociablest sports in camp it gets so that the uncle in one an' father +in the other so far supplants an' shoves aside the mere man in 'em +that Job himse'f would have had to make a new record for meekness an' +long sufferin' to get along with 'em. Which we-all suffers from both +to that extent that when they does start to bombardin' each other the +eepisode in some of its angles appeals to us as a welcome relief. + +"Even Peets goes after Texas. It don't do no good. He's become that +opinionated he ain't got no more reespect for Peets than for Monte. +Texas mentions that Annalinda's got a ache some'ers, an' asks Peets +what's his idee. + +"'Thar's nothin' onder the firmament, Texas, the matter with that +baby,' says Peets, 'but you. Which if you'd ever got to him as a +yearlin' you'd a-killed Hercules himse'f! Quit yore fussin', an' give +Annalinda a chance. Take a lesson from the cub coyote. Roll Annalinda +out in the sand, an' let her scuffle. That's the way to bring a +youngone up.' + +"'Mother Shrewsbury don't agree with you,' says Texas. 'Also, thar's +nothin' in them cub coyote claims of yours for r'arin' children.' + +"'Mother Shrewsbury,' retorts Peets, 'is nothin' but a patent med'cine +outfit, which feeds an' fattens on sech boneheads as you.' + +"'Excoose me, but scattered throughout that invalyooable work is the +endorsements of doctors of divinity.' + +"'Shore! Half the time a gold brick comes to you wrapped in a tract. +All the same, Texas, the way you're carryin' on about Annalinda is +fast bringin' your sanity into doubt.' + +"Texas snorts his scorn at this, an' goes back to 'Mother Shrewsbury.' + +"As I've already s'ggested, however, thar's a bitter drop in Texas' +cup, an' Tutt's the drop. As a ondeniable father, Tutt can put it all +over Texas or any other mere uncle whenever he feels like it, an' deep +down in his heart Texas knows it. He struggles to hide the feelin', +but any one can tell that the very sight of Tutt is wormwood to him. + +"Likewise, Tutt fully ree'lizes his sooperiority, an' in no wise +conceals the same. It comes as easy to Tutt as suckin' aiggs, he +havin' had plenty of practice. Ever since little Enright Peets is +born Tutt has conducted himse'f in a downhill manner towards all of +us, an' been allowed to do so; as why not? This manner has become so +much a part of Tutt that even after Texas inherits Annalinda an' sets +up house for himse'f, while it makes the rest of us look up to him +some, it don't he'p him none with Tutt. Tutt's too thoroughly aware of +the difference between bein' a father an' bein' a uncle. Likewise, he +lets Texas see it at every twist in the trail. + +"That time Nell takes to pa'rin' off little Enright Peets an' +Annalinda, an' in a sperit of lightness speaks of how mebby some day +they'll wed, she springs the notion on Texas, as stated, an' asks him +what he thinks. Texas, who always has to have time to make up his mind +about anything with Annalinda in it, is onable to say, first dash out +of the box, whether he feels tickled or sore. He grows plenty solemn, +as I mentions, grunts mighty elevated an' austere, an' mumbles about +some things bein' a long shot an' a limb in the way, an' the wisdom of +not crossin' a bridge till you gets to it. + +"Ten minutes later, while he's still got Annalinda an' little Enright +Peets on the skyline of his regyard, Texas comes upon Tutt, who's +talkin' pol'tics to Armstrong. Armstrong has tossed off a few +weak-minded opinions about a deefensive an' offensive deal with +Russia, an' Tutt's ag'in it as solid as a sod house. + +"'Yes, sir,' Tutt's saying; 'I'm ag'in any sech low alliance. I'd be +ashamed to call myse'f a white man an' consent to sech open-eyed +disgrace.' + +"Texas turns white. It's among his deefects that he can't escape the +feelin' that the whole world is always thinkin' an' talkin' about +whatever he himse'f is thinkin' an' talkin' about. Overhearin' what +Tutt says, he concloodes that Tutt's declarin' his sent'ments as to +little Enright Peets marryin' Annalinda, an' is out to reeject all +sech alliances as a disgrace to the Tutts. An' Texas foomes. To be eat +up by Tutt's sooperior station as a shore father is bad enough! An' +now yere's Tutt, aggravatin' injury with insult! Which it's too much! + +"'Draw your weepon, Dave,' calls out Texas, bringin' his own gun to +the front. 'Your bein' a father don't overawe me none, you bet! +Likewise, if you're a Tutt I'm a Thompson, an' I've stood about all +I'm going to.' + +"Tutt, as a old experienced gun-player, sees at a glance that he ain't +got no time to throw out skirmishers. For reasons onknown, but +s'fficient, thar's Texas manooverin' to plug him. Wharupon, Tutt takes +steps accordin', an' takes 'em some abrupt. So abrupt, in trooth, that +Texas ain't got through oratin' before his nigh hind laig has stopped +a bullet midway above the knee. Shore, he gets a shot at Tutt, but it +goes skutterin' along in the sand a full foot to one side. Thar's only +them two shots, Enright, Armstrong an' Jack Moore gettin' in between +'em, an' nippin' any further trouble in the bud. + +"It's two hours later, an' Enright has come 'round to beat some sense +into Texas. + +"'Accordin' to the Doc yere,' says Enright, as Peets ladles the +invalid out a hooker of Old Jordan, 'that laig'll be so you can ride +ag'in in a month. Pendin' which, while I don't preetend to savvy +what's been goin' on between you an' Dave, nor what insults has been +give or took, I no less tells you, Texas, that you're wrong.' + +"'As how?' growls Texas, gulpin' down the nosepaint. + +"'As to them airs which of late you dons. You know you can't defend +'em none. Dave's been the sole onchallenged father in this yere outfit +for crowdin' nigh five years; an' for you to come swaggerin' up, +insistin' that he divide the pot with you an' you holdin' nothin' +higher than a niece, nacherally exasperates him beyond endoorance. +Which you'd feel the same yourse'f in Dave's place.' + +"'But you don't onderstand, Sam. It's him connivin' round an' archin' +his neck ag'inst them babies marryin' each other when they're growed +up--it's that which sets my blood to b'ilin'. Wharever does Dave come +in to get insultin' action at sech a prop'sition? It'll be a cold day +when a Thompson ain't equal to a Tutt, an' I'll make that good while I +can pull an' p'int a .45.' + +"'Which Dave,' interjecks Peets, as he goes cockin' up Texas' foot on +a gooseha'r pillow, so's the shot laig'll feel it less--'which Dave +thinks right now, an' so informs me personal, that you-all starts to +mussin' with him on account of pol'tics, an' him havin' been a +reepublican back East. Armstrong b'ars him out, too.' + +"'Pol'tics?' gasps Texas, full of wonder. 'Whatever do I care about +pol'tics? I shore ain't no nigger-lovin' reepublican. At the same +time, I ain't no cheap hoss-thief of a democrat, neither, even if I +does come from Texas. Why, Doc, takin' jedge an' opposin' counsel an' +the clerk who records the decree, on down to that ornery auctioneer of +a sheriff who sells up my stock at public vandoo for costs an' al'mony +the time my Laredo wife grabs off her divorce, every stick-up among +'em's a democrat. An' while I don't know nothin' about pol'tics, an' +never aims to, you can go the limit on it I ain't nothin' them bandits +be. Which I'd sooner be a prohibitionist!' + +"Enright an' Peets an' Texas keeps on discussin' ontil the +misonderstandin' is laid bar', an' Texas is quick to admit that he's +been mistook. Tutt, who's willin' an' ready, is brought in, an' the +pa'r reeconciled. + +"'An', old man,' says Tutt, usin' both hands to shake with Texas, 'I'd +on the level feel a heap better if it's me who gets busted in the +laig.' + +"'Don't mention it, Dave,' returns Texas, who, now he reelizes what +he's done, is deeply affected. 'I was plumb wrong; I sees it now. +Also, if in the fullness of time Annalinda declar's in favor of +weddin' little Enright Peets, I yereby binds myse'f to back them +nuptials for a thousand head of steers.' + +"'Texas,' an' the water stands in Tutt's eyes, 'while it's the first I +hears of sech a racket, yere's my hand that I'll go with you, steer +for steer an' hoof for hoof.' + +"What Peets calls 'the logic of the sityooation' p'ints to licker all +around; an', as we-all drinks to the onclouded future of Annalinda an' +little Enright Peets, Texas an' Tutt ag'in shakes mighty fervent for +the second time." + + + + +XI + +THE FUNERAL OF OLD HOLT + + +"That Turner person! Does he remain in Wolfville long?" The old +cattleman repeated my question as though feeling for its bearings. +"Well, he don't break no records. Which I should say now he sojourns +with us mebby it's six months before he ups stakes an' pulls his +freight back East. Oh, no; it ain't that any gent who's licensed to +call himse'f a molder of public opinion, sech as Enright or Peets, +objects to the Turner person's further presence none. Speakin' +gen'ral, the heft of feelin' is in his favor. Not but what he has +deeficiencies. It's no easy shot, offhand, to tell you preecisely whar +this Turner person is camped in common esteem. Perhaps it's enough to +say he's one of them parties who, while they don't excite your +disapproval, is shore to keep you loaded with regrets. + +"Ain't you met up frequent with that form of horned toad? Thar's +nothin' you can lodge ag'inst 'em, nothin' at which a vig'lance +committee can rope an' fasten; they're honest, well meanin', even +gen'rous; an' yet thar they be, upholstered by nacher in some occult +way with about the same chance of bein' pop'lar as a wet dog. Speakin' +for myse'f, I feels sorry for these yere onforchoonate mavericks, +condemned as they be at birth to go pirootin' from the cradle to the +grave, meetin' everywhar about the same welcome which awaits a polecat +at a picnic. + +"Thar's no predom'natin' element of evil in this Turner person. Which +in his case the trouble swings an' rattles on the way he's built. His +crownin' deefect, mighty likely, is that he's got one of them sidehill +minds, an' what idees he does evolve can't find no foothold, but is +robbed at the start of everything reesemblin' perm'nancy. I watches +his comin's in an' goin's out for months on eend, an' I'm yere to +say--at the same time ascribin' to him no ill intentions--that onder +all condition an' on all o'casions he's as onreli'ble as a woman's +watch. + +"About that weddin' he goes east to consummate? + +"Which it looks like, speakin' mod'rate, he quits winner. He travels +back to Sni-a-bar as tame as tabby cats in persooance with Enright's +commands, an', once thar, old man Parks an' the rest of 'em whistles +him through the marital chute a heap successful. When he shows up +among us, his blushin' Peggy bride on his arm, he's wearin' all the +brands an' y'ear marks of a thor'ughly married man; to sech degrees, +indeed, as renders Texas oncomfortable. + +"'It recalls,' says Texas, 'them honeymoon days I passed with my +Laredo wife before she wins out that divorce. It's like a icicle +through my heart to look at him,' he goes on, aloodin' to the Turner +person an' the fatyoous fog of deelight he's evident in. 'Thar he is, +like a cub b'ar, his troubles all before him, an' not brains enough +onder his skelp-lock to a'preeciate his awful p'sition.' + +"'Why, Texas,' remonstrates Nell as, the turn comin' trey-nine, she +picks a stack of bloos off the trey an' puts it in the check rack, +'you talks of wedlock as though that sacriment's a brace. Plenty of +folks has beat the game. Thar's Tutt an' Tucson Jennie.' + +"'Them nuptials of Dave's an' Jennie's, Nell,' returns Texas, shakin' +his head a heap gloomy, 'ain't far enough to the r'ar to afford a +preecedent. Wait till Dave wakes up.' + +"'Till Dave wakes up?' says Boggs, who's busy at the lay-out, an' has +jest planted a stack of reds coppered in the big squar'. 'Sech +pess'mism, Texas, is reedic'lous. Bein' married that a-way, I takes +it, is somethin' like walkin' a tightrope. It reequires care, but it +can be did. To be shore, if anything happens, you're in for a +jo-darter of a jolt. Still, the resk don't render the feat imposs'ble, +an' a brave man disregyards it.' + +"'That's whatever,' comments Nell, as, the king fallin' to win, she +draws down Boggs's reds. + +"Thar's no chill on the reception we confers on the Turner person an' +his Peggy bride. Monte has orders, in case they're aboard, to onlimber +his shotgun a mile or two outside of camp, so's we gets notice an' is +not caught off our gyard. For once the old drunkard is faithful to his +trust, an' when we hears him whangin' away with both bar'ls, we turns +out, as they say in Noo York, _en masse_. Every gent empties the six +chambers of his gun as the stage pulls up, an' the Turner person +he'ps out his Peggy bride into the center of a most joyful foosilade. +We couldn't have done more if she's the Queen of Sheba. + +"The Turner person an' his Peggy bride is in right from the go. Missis +Rucker declar's that the bride's a lady; Nell proclaims her as 'shore +corn-fed,' while Tucson Jennie allows she's a whole lot too good for +sech a jack-rabbit of a husband as she gets. + +"Her beauty? + +"Which you couldn't say it's calc'lated to blind. + +"For mere loveliness she ain't a marker to Nell. To be frank, it's +somethin' more'n a simple question that a-way if she splits even with +Tucson Jennie. As for Missis Rucker, that matron bein' past her yooth +ain't properly speakin' in the runnin', an' to go comparin' her with +girls would be injestice. + +"Once landed, an' havin' escaped from that ovation we prepar's, the +Turner person an' his Peggy bride moves into the wickeyup okyoopied +former by Cash Box Billie an' Missis Bill, an' opens up their domestic +game. Hearin' nothin' to the contrary, no howls of anguish from him, +no yelps of complaint from her, it's safe to say that in what joys is +supposed to attend the connoobyal state, they coppers all of them +loogubrious forebodin's of Texas, an' gets at least as good as a even +break. + +"Old man Parks back at Sni-a-bar? + +"It looks like the Turner person, him bein' nacherally timid, +exaggerates the perils which lurks in that aged cimmaron. Leastwise, +old Parks don't offer no voylance to him, neither at the weddin' nor +later. Some waifword does come creepin' along that durin' the cer'mony +two of the guests has to hold old Parks, an' that he's searched for +weepons by the preacher before ever said divine consents to turn his +game at all. Which I'm free to say, however, I never lends no +creedence to them yarns. + +"The Turner person, now he's established as a married gent an' a +cit'zen in full standin', gives himse'f horn an' hide to business that +a-way. He's as prompt about openin' his coffin emporium as ever is +Black Jack in throwin' wide the portals of the Red Light. Once thar, +he stays ontil the evenin' lamps is lit, layin' for a corpse to use +his new hearse on. + +"Also, the Turner person has hopes: an' equally also he ain't without +foundations wharon to build. That's an uncle of Armstrong who has come +totterin' into camp, as he says himse'f, to die. Likewise, it's the +onbiased view of every gent in the outfit that this reelative of +Armstrong possesses reasons. He's a walkin' wreck. Peets concedes that +he's got every malady ever heard of, besides sev'ral as to which +science is plumb in the dark. + +"Nacherally, not alone the Turner person, but the public at large, +figgers that this yere uncle'll shore furnish employment for the +hearse, an' at no distant day. But it looks like that onmitigated +invalid is out to test our patience. Mornin' after mornin' he comes +scufflin' into the Red Light on two canes to get his matootinal +nosepaint, an' this he keeps up ontil it begins to look like malice. +Ree'lizin', too, the pecooliar int'rest we-all is bound to take in him +onder the circumstances, he puts on airs, an' goes by us when he meets +us as coldly haughty as a paycar by a tramp. Or, ag'in, he's prone to +grin at us plenty peevish an' malev'lent, an' this he does partic'lar +if the Turner person's hoverin' round. + +"'Which I shore deespises to keep you boys waitin',' he'd say, with a +cacklin', aggravatin' laugh; 'but the way I feels it'd be prematoore +to go greasin' up the hubs of that hearse.' + +"Sech taunts he flings forth constant, ontil he comes mighty near +drivin' Boggs frantic. + +"'It seems,' says Boggs, 'like simply livin' ain't good enough for +that old hoss thief. To be wholly happy he's obleeged to make his stay +on earth a source of mis'ry to other folks. Which he ought to've been +in his tomb ten years ago. Every day he draws his breath is so much +velvet; an', instead of bein' thankful, all he thinks of is makin' +mean reemarks an' sayin' bitin' things. He'll keep on till some +over-provoked sport bends a six-shooter on his insultin' head.' + +"Weeks of waitin' goes by. Armstrong's old badger of a uncle hangs on, +an' no outside corpse falls in, Arizona, as you doubtless savvys, +bein' scand'lously healthy that a-way. So far, too, from any el'g'ble +subject arrivin' in the usual way, the town never experiences sech a +period of rippleless an' onruffled peace. As showin', too, how far the +public is willin' to go to he'p along the play, I need only mention +that on two o'casions Boggs leaves out his best pony all night, +himse'f sprawled in behind a mesquite bush with his winchester, hopin' +some Mexican'll prove weak enough to want it. All is in vain, however. +Thar we be, framed up to give a fooneral from which Cochise County +could date time, an' nothin' in the line of raw mater'al wharwith to +pull it off. Which I never sees the gen'ral feelin' more exasperated. +It's as though in a sperit of sarcasm our destinies is mockin' us. + +"The Turner person, in the face of this yere disheartenin' idleness, +takes refooge in a trottin' hoss, which form of equine is as strange +to us as camelopards. Shore, we has our runnin' races, pony ag'inst +pony, a quarter of a mile dash; but that's as far as we goes. + +"The Turner person says that for himse'f he prefers trottin' races, +an' after seein' him ride once I shore quits marvellin' at that +pref'rence. You could no more keep him on a pony than you could keep +him on a red-hot stove. We ties a roll of blankets across the horn of +the saddle, an' organizes him with buckin' straps besides, an' in the +face of all them safegyards he rolls off that hoss same as you'd +expect some chambermaid to do. + +"Accordin' to the Turner person, trottin' races is the sport of kings, +an' actin' on this feelin' he sends back East for a hoss. He drives it +in one evenin' behind the stage, an' we-all goes over to the corral to +size it up. It's consid'rable of a hoss, too, standin' three hands +higher than the tallest of our ponies. Also, it has a ewe neck an' +lib'ral legs. It's name is 'Henry of Navarre,' but we sees at once +that sech'll never do, an' re-christens him 'Boomerang Bob.' + +"When this hoss arrives Boggs gets excited, an' him an' the Turner +person lays out a track all around town like a belt. Boggs allows it's +a mile long, or near enough, an' after a passel of Greasers cl'ars +away the cactus an' mesquite an' Spanish bayonet, the Turner person +hooks up Boomerang to a mountain wagon, an' sends him 'round an' +'round an' 'round at a pace that'd make your eyes stick out so far you +could see your sins. Old Boomerang is shore some eevanescent! When +that Turner person shakes the reins an' yells 'Skoot!' you could hear +him whizz. On sech occasions he's nothin' short of a four-laigged +meteor, an' looks forty feet long passin' a given p'int. + +"The big drawback is that thar ain't no quadrooped anywhar about to +race Boomerang ag'inst. Leastwise, we don't hear of none for goin' on +some months, an' when we do it's as far away as Albuquerque. Some +consumptive tenderfoot, it looks like, has got a trottin' hoss over +some'ers between Albuquerque an' Socorro, sech at least is the word +which comes to us. + +"When this pulmonary sport hears of Boomerang, which he does by +virchoo of the overblown boastin's of the Turner person, he announces +that his hoss, Toobercloses, can beat him for money, marbles or chalk. +Then comes a season of bluff an' counter-bluff, the pulmonary party +insistin' that the Turner person bring Boomerang up to Albuquerque, +an' the Turner person darin' the pulmonary sport to fetch his 'dog,' +as he scornfully terms Toobercloses, down to Wolfville. + +"It's to be said for the Turner person that he'd have shore took +Boomerang, an' gone romancin' off to Albuquerque, lookin' for that +weak-lunged reprobate an' his hoss, only sent'ment is plumb ag'inst +it. We-all don't propose to lose the camp the advantages of that +contest, an' so to put an eend to discussion, we urges upon the Turner +person that we-all'll shore kill him if he tries. This yere firmness +gives us the pref'rence over Albuquerque, an' the pulmonary sport +allows final that he'll come to Wolfville, but don't say when. + +"While eevents is thus a-whirl, an' the camp's all keyed up to concert +pitch over the comin' race between Boomerang an' Toobercloses, the +long-hoped for comes to pass an' the Turner person, as fooneral +director, receives his 'nitial call. Over in Red Dog is a party named +Holt. He ain't standin' none too high, him havin' married a Mexican +woman, an' even them Red Dogs has the se'f-respect to draw the social +line at Mexicans. One sun-up, however, she goes trapesin' across the +line to visit her people down near Casa Grande, an' she never does +come back. It looks like she's got enough of old Holt, which to gents +who knows him don't go trenchin' on the strange. + +"The long suit of this yere Mexican wife of old Holt's is thinkin' +she's sick, she holdin' that she's got as many things the matter with +her as is preyin' on Armstrong's uncle. When she breaks out of the +corral an' goes stampedin' off to her tribe, she leaves behind mebby +it's a hundred bottles or more of patent med'cine, rangin' all the way +from arnica to ha'r dye. + +"Followin' her flight that a-way old Holt goes to takin' an account of +stock by way of seein' what she cabbages an' what she leaves, an' the +first flash he blunders upon this yere bushel or so of drugs. He's too +froogal to throw 'em away, old Holt is, bein' plumb pars'monious that +a-way, an' after revolvin' the play in his mind for a spell, he ups +an' swallows 'em to save 'em. + +"No one ever does figger out jest what individyooal med'cine bumps +old Holt off that time, an' thar's no sayin' whether it's the arnica +or the ha'r dye or some other deecoction, or simply the whole +clan-jamfrey in comb'nation. Not that any gent goes to reely delvin' +for the trooth, the gen'ral interest pitchin' camp contentedly on +the simple fact that old Holt's been shore put over the jump. Doc +Peets? Old Holt's packed in before the Doc's half way to Red Dog. +Shore; some of them bottled med'cines is as ack'rate an' as full +of action as a six-shooter. + +"Of course we-all is pleased to think the Turner person, as fooneral +director, ain't been born to bloom onseen, but the rift in the floote +is that the corpse belongs to Red Dog. Old Holt ain't ours none, an' +from whatever angle we looks at it it appears like Wolfville ain't +goin' to get a look in. + +"It's at pinches sech as this that Enright shows his genius for +leadership. While all of us is lookin' bloo, to see how Red Dog beats +us to it for our own hearse, our fertile old war chief is ribbin' up a +game for pop'lar relief. + +"The Red Dog del'gation, headed by the Red Dog chief, comes over to +round up the Turner person an' his hearse to entomb old Holt. At their +showin' up Enright begins to onkiver his diplomacy. + +"'Which we symp'thizes with you-all in your bereevement, gents,' says +he to the Red Dog bunch, 'but it's ag'inst our rooles for this yere +hearse to go outside of camp.' + +"'Ain't you actin' some niggardly about that hearse?' asks the Red Dog +chief coldly. + +"'Not niggardly, only proodent. Death cometh as a thief in the night, +speshully in Arizona, an' we-all'd be a fine band of prairie dogs to +go lendin' our only hearse all over the territory, an' mebby have it +skallyhootin' 'round som'ers up about the Utah line jest when we needs +it at home. However, as refootin' your onjest charge of bein' +niggards, if you-all Red Dogs wants to bring deceased over yere, our +entire lay-out is at your disposal. Allowin' you can find your own +sky-pilot, we stands ready to not only let you have our hearse, but +furnish you likewise with moosic from the Bird Cage Op'ry House, +cha'rs from the dance hall, the Noo York store to hold serv'ces in, to +say nothin' to considerin' you-all as our guests from soda to hock, +with every Red Light thing said term implies.' + +"'Also,' observes Peets, who, from his place at Enright's elbow, is +ridin' circumspect herd on the play--'also, we presents you-all, +without money an' without price, a sepulcher in our buryin' ground on +Boot Hill.' + +"This yere last provokes a storm of protest, the Red Dog del'gation +takin' turns exposchoolatin'. But Enright an' the Doc stands ca'mly +pat. + +"'Which now,' says the Red Dog chief, an' his tones is bitter--'which +now I begins to ketch onto your plot. You savvys as well as I do that +old Holt don't ought to go into your pile at all. He belongs in our +pile--to Red Dog's pile. An' let me reemind you intriguers that Red +Dog owns its own cem'tery over in Headboard Hollow, an' ain't askin' +graveyard odds of any outfit west of the Spanish Peaks. This is a fine +idee,' he concloods, turnin' sneerin'ly to his cohorts; 'not content +with tryin' to grab off these yere obs'quies, they're brazenly +manooverin' to purloin the corpse.' + +"At these contoomelius reemarks Boggs, Tutt, Moore an' Cherokee takes +to edgin' to the fore, but Enright reepresses 'em with a admon'tory +wave of his hand. + +"'Gents,' he says, to the Red Dog hold-ups, 'as vis'tors, even though +se'f-invited, you're entitled to courtesy. But thar's a limit goes +with courtesy even, an' you-all mustn't press it.' + +"This last sets the Red Dog outfit back on its apol'getic ha'nches, +an' after a few more footile but less insultin' bluffs, they retires +to consult. The wind-up is that they yields to Enright's terms, +incloosive of Boot Hill, an' after libatin' at the Red Light they +canters off to freight over old Holt, so's to be ready to hold the +fooneral next day. + +"As I looks back to them prep'rations thar's no denyin' that as a +fooneral director the Turner person proves himse'f plumb cap'ble of +gettin' thar with the goods. Once he reeceives the word, everything +goes off as measured an' steady as the breathin' of a sleepin' child. +Even the Red Dog chief is moved to softer views, as gents frequent be +followin' the eighth drink, an' whispers to Enright, confidenshul, +that when all's in the only thing he deplores is that old Holt is +bein' planted on Boot Hill instead of in Headboard Hollow. At this +Enright, meetin' the Red Dog chief half-way, whispers back that later, +if Red Dog desires the same, we'll jump in an' move old Holt a whole +lot to Headboard Hollow. At this lib'ral'ty the Red Dog chief squeezes +Enright's hand a heap fraternal, an' chokes with emotion. He sobs out +that this is the one thing wanted to reestore them former friendly +reelations between the camps. + +"The procession is one of the most exhil'ratin' pageants ever seen in +the Southwest. At the head is the ploomed hearse, old Holt inside, +the Turner person on the box. Next comes the stage coach, Monte +drivin', an' Nell, Missis Rucker, Tucson Jennie, little Enright Peets, +the Turner person's Peggy bride an' other ladies inside. The balance +of us attends on our ponies, ridin' two an' two. + +"As we're waitin' for the preacher sharp, who's goin' in the stage, to +get tucked in among the ladies, a hollow-chested, chalk-cheeked, +sardonic-lookin', cynical-seemin' bandit, drivin' a lean-laigged hoss +to one of them spid'ry things they calls a quill-wheel, comes +pirootin' along over to one side of the fooneral cortege at a walk. +He's p'intin' in from over Red Dog way, but I savvys from the +wonderin' faces of them Red Dog sports that he's as new to them as us. +The cynical bandit skirts along our procession ontil he's abreast of +the hearse. Then he pulls up, we-all not havin' had the word to start +as yet. + +"The Turner person has hooked up old Boomerang to the hearse, so as to +confer on this his first fooneral all the style he can. Havin' halted +his quill-wheel, the hectic bandit, coughin' a little, p'ints his whip +at Boomerang an' says to the Turner person: + +"'Is this the skate you're tryin' to match ag'inst my Toobercloses?' + +"'Grizzly b'ars an' golden eagles!' exclaims Boggs, who's ridin' next +to me, 'if he ain't that lunger from Albuquerque!' An' Boggs pulls out +to the left, an' crowds up towards the hearse for a closer look. + +"'As fooneral director,' the Turner person replies to the hectic, +quill-wheel bandit, whom he fathoms instantly--'as fooneral director, +I must preeserve the decorums. But only you wait, you onblushin' +outlaw, ontil I've patted down the sods on old Holt yere, an' I'll +race you for every splinter you own.' + +"'That's all right,' retorts the hectic bandit, givin' another little +cat-cough. 'Which you needn't get your ondertakin' back up none. +Meanwhile, I'll nacherally string along with these obs'quies, so's to +be ready to talk turkey to you when you're through.' + +"Enright gives the signal an', with Boomerang an' the hearse at the +head, the procession lines out at a seedate walk for the grave. + +"Boot Hill's been located about a mile an' a half off, so as to give +our foonerals doo effect. As we pushes for'ard, everything mighty +solemn, the hectic bandit, keepin' a few feet off to one side, walks +his hoss parallel with the hearse. Every now an' then his hoss, makin' +a half bolt as if he's been flicked by the lash, would streak ahead a +rod or two like a four-laigged shadow. Then he'd pull him down to a +walk, an' sort o' linger along ontil the hearse comes up ag'in. He +does this a half dozen times; an' all in a hectorin' sperit that'd +anger the pulseless soul of a clam. + +"One way an' another it stirs up the feelin's of old Boomerang, who's +beginnin' to bite at the bit an' throw his laigs some antic an' +permiscus. The Turner person himse'f acts like a party who's holdin' +onto his eemotions by the tail, so as to keep 'em from breakin' loose. +His face is set, his elbows squar'd, an' he's settin' up on his hearse +as stiff an' straight as a rifle bar'l, lookin' dead ahead between old +Boomerang's two y'ears. So it goes on for likely half a mile, the +hectic bandit seesawin' an' pesterin' an' badgerin' old Boomerang, now +dartin' ahead, now slowin' back to let the hearse ketch up. + +"As I yeretofore explains, the Turner person ain't arranged mental to +entertain more'n one idee at a time. My own notion is that as the +hectic bandit, with Toobercloses, commences to encroach more an' more +upon his attention, he loses sight that a-way of old Holt an' the +fooneral. Whatever the valyoo of this as a theery, thar comes a +moment, about a mile from Boot Hill, when, as sudden as the crack of a +rifle, away goes Boomerang with the rush of a norther. Toobercloses +ain't a second behind. Thar they be, Toobercloses ag'inst Boomerang, +quill-wheel ag'inst hearse, old Holt inside, racin' away to beat a +royal flush. + +"As hearse an' quill-wheel go t'arin' down the trail Monte gets the +fever, an' sets to pourin' the buckskin into his three span, an' +yellin' like forty Apaches. The six hosses goes into their collars +like lions, an' the stage takes to rockin' an' boundin' an' bumpin' in +clost pursoote of the hearse. Nor be we-all on ponies left any behind, +you bet. We cuts loose, quirt an' spur, an' brings up the r'ar in a +dust-liftin', gallopin' half-moon. It's ondoubted the quickest-movin' +fooneral that ever gets pulled off. + +"Old Holt, an' put it lightest, is a one hundred an' eighty pounder, +an' the hearse itse'f is as heavy as a Studebaker wagon. From +standp'ints of weight pore old Boomerang ain't gettin' a squar' deal. +Which the old hero ain't got no notion of bein' beat, though. He's all +heart an' bottom; an', game?--bald hornets is quitters to him! + +"The load begins to tell at last, though, an' inch by inch Toobercloses +starts to nose Boomerang out. It's then the flood-gates is lifted. +Nell, head out of one of the coach windows, starts screamin' to +Boomerang; Missis Rucker's got her sunbonnet out of another, +expressin' her opinion of the hectic bandit an' Toobercloses; Tucson +Jennie is shoutin' for Dave to come an' rescue her; the Turner +person's Peggy is shriekin' with hysterics; the preacher sharp--who's +tryin' to get at Monte--is talkin' scriptoorally but various, while +little Enright Peets is contreebutin' his small cub-coyote yelps of +exultation to the gen'ral racket. + +"Back among us riders the bets is flyin' hither an' yon as thick as +swallow birds at eventide, we offerin' hundreds on Boomerang an' them +Red Dogs backin' Toobercloses. It's as the tech of death to the +Wolfville heart when we sees Toobercloses slowly surgin' to the fore. + +[Illustration: THAR'S A BOMBARDMENT WHICH SOUNDS LIKE A BATTERY OF +GATLINGS, THE WHOLE PUNCTCHOOATED BY A WHIRLWIND OF "WHOOPS!" p. 317.] + +"Half-way to Boot Hill Boggs spurs up on the nigh flank of Boomerang. + +"'Yere's whar we puts a little verve into this thing!' he roars; an' +pullin' his guns he begins shakin' the loads out of 'em like roman +candles. + +"Wolfville an' Red Dog, every gent follows Boggs' example. It sounds +like a battery of gattlings, the whole punctchooated by a whirlwind of +'Whoops!' that'd have backed a war party of Apaches over a bluff. They +almost hears us in Tucson. + +"Old Boomerang reesponds noble to Boggs's six-shooters. They was the +preecise kind of encouragement he's been waitin' for, an' onder their +inspiration he t'ars by Toobercloses like a thrown lance. We sweeps on +to Boot Hill, makin' a deemoniac finish, old Boomerang leadin' by the +len'th of the hearse. + +"Nobody's hurt, onless you wants to count that hectic bandit from +Albuquerque. After he's beat cold, Toobercloses gets tangled up +accidental in a mesquite bush, the quill-wheel swaps eends with +itse'f, an' the hectic Albuquerque bandit lands head on in a bunch of +cactus. He's shore a spectacle; an' Peets says private that for a +while thar's hopes he'll die. As for the parson, who's the sorest +divine in Arizona, he allows that the only bet he ever knows +prov'dence to overlook is not breakin' the hectic bandit's neck. + +"Nacherally, the Red Dogs feels some grouchy at the way things has +gone, an' while they gives up their orig'nal thought of lynchin' the +hectic bandit, they're plenty indignant at him for turnin' old Holt's +fooneral into a hoss race. It ain't old Holt that's frettin' 'em so +much as that they feels like it's a disgrace on their camp. + +"This yere Red Dog feelin' prodooces a onlooked for effect. They goes +gloomin' an' glowerin' 'round, an' talkin' to themselves to sech a +hostile extent it ups an' scares the Turner person. Plumb timid by +nacher, he gets afraid the Red Dogs' indignation'll incloode him +final, an' eend by drawin' their horns his way. It's no use tryin' to +ca'm him. Argyooment, reemonstrance, even a promise to protect him +with our lives, has no effect. The Turner person, in a last stampede +of his nerve, is for dustin' back to Missouri--him an' his Peggy +bride. He says it's more peaceful, more civ'lized thar, which shore +strikes us as a heap jocose. In the end, however, we has to let him +go. + +"The hearse? + +"We keeps the hearse, that an' Boomerang; Armstrong's uncle buys 'em. +He says he don't aim to be sep'rated none from the only hearse within +a hundred miles, an' him on the verge of the grave. + +"'Which my only reason for livin' now,' says he, 'is to lac'rate +Boggs, an' even that as a pastime is beginnin' to pall.' + +"What time does Boomerang make? + +"No one preetends to hold a watch. Thar's one thing, though, which +looks like he was shore goin' some. Tutt on the way back picks up a +dead jack-rabbit, that's been run over by the hearse." + + + + +XII + +SPELLING BOOK BEN + + +"Which it's as you states." The old cattleman assumed the easy +attitude of one sure of his position. "Reefinement, that a-way, will +every now an' then hit the center of the table in manner an' form most +onexpected. Thar's Red Dog. Now whoever do you reckon would look for +sech a oncooth outfit to go onbeltin' in any reefined racket? An' yet +thar's once at least when Red Dog shows it's got its silken side. + +"An', after all, mebby I'm too narrow about Red Dog. Thar's times +when I fears that drawn aside by prejewdyce I misjedges Red Dog +utter, an' takes for ignorant vulgar'ty what comin' down to cases is +merely noise. It's the whiskey they drinks, most likely. They're +addicted to a kind of cat-bird whiskey over thar, which sets 'em to +whistlin' an' chirpin' an' twitterin' an' teeterin' up an' down on +the conversational bough, to sech a seemin'ly empty-headed extent it's +calc'lated to mislead the ca'mest intellects into a belief that the +c'rrect way to deal with Red Dog is to build one of these yere +stone corrals 'round it, call it a loonatic asylum, an' let it go at +that. + +"Wolfville's whiskey? + +"We-all confines ourselves to Valley Tan an' Willow Run an' Old +Jordan, all lickers which has a distinct tendency to make a gent +seedate, an' render him plumb cer'monious. I in no wise exaggerates +when I avers that I freequent cuts the trail of parties who, after the +tenth or mebby it's the 'leventh drink across the Red Light bar, waxes +that punctillious they even addresses a measly Mexican as 'Sir.' + +"Recurrin' to Red Dog, that silken occasion which I has in mind occurs +when, proceedin' without invitation an' wholly as volunteers, they +strings up the book-keep sharp who bumps off Spellin' Book Ben. Thar's +a brief moment when said action runs a profound risk of bein' +misconstrooed into becomin' the teemin' source of complications. You +see we ain't lookin' for nothin' in the way of a play from Red Dog +more del'cate than the butt of a six-shooter, an' it ain't ontil the +Red Dog chief himse'f onlimbers in planations, an' all plenty loocid, +that we ketches fully on. + +"Red Dog goes further an' insists on payin' over what money they +wagers, an' all as honorable as though that contest which they bets on +goes to a showdown. Enright won't have it, though, none whatever; an' +what with one side heatedly profferin' an' the other coldly refoosin', +it looks for a time like thar's goin' to be feelin'. Friction is +averted, however, when Peets--who's allers thar with the s'lootion to +any tangle--recommends that Red Dog an' Wolfville chip in half an' +half conj'intly, to buy a tombstone for Spellin' Book, with a +inscription kyarved tharon, the same to read: + + TO + THE MEMORY OF + SPELLING BOOK BEN. + PREFERRING DEATH TO THE + APPEARANCE OF IGNORANCE, + HE DIED + A MARTYR TO LEARNING AND + BRAVELY + DEFENDING A RIGHTFUL ORTHOGRAPHY. + THE LANGUAGE MOURNS + HIS LOSS. + +"'Which we simply aims by this yere hangin',' says the Red Dog chief +in makin' them explanations, the same bein' addressed to Enright, 'to +save you-all from a disagree'ble dooty.' + +"'As how?' deemands Enright, who's a heap deefensive by instinct, an' +never puts down his stack while the kyards is in the hands of the +dealer. + +"'As how to wit,' returns the Red Dog chief. 'Troo, this book-keep +malefactor ain't by rights no shore-enough Red Dogger, seein' he's a +importation of the express company's an' at best or worst no more'n a +sojourner within our gates. But, considerin' how he trails in yere +this evenin' in our company, we feels respons'ble. Wharfore, allowin' +that mebby--you-all standin' towards us visitors, that a-way, in the +light of hosts--your notion of hospital'ty gets its spurs tangled up +in your deelib'rations so it impedes the march of jestice, we +intervenes. Which I shorely trusts that no gent present regyards Red +Dog as that ontaught as to go cuttin' in on what's cl'arly a alien +game onasked. Red Dog ain't quite that exyooberantly bumptious, not to +say croodly gay. It's only to relieve the shoulders of you-all from a +burden that we strings said offender up.' + +"'_Bueno!_' replies Enright, followin' a dignified pause, like he's +weighin' the Red Dog chief's eloocidations. 'A gent, onless his hand +is crowded by some p'int of honor, allers takes the word of a fellow +gent. In view of which, the execootion you pulls off is yereby +accepted as kindly meant, an' as sech is kindly took. I'm preepared on +behalf of Wolfville to regyard the same as performed in a sperit of +del'cate courtesy. Whatever, Doc, do you-all say?' + +"'Like yourse'f, Sam,' says Peets, 'I grasps an' a'preeciates the Red +Dog attitoode. Also, I holds that the business thus constrooed is +calc'lated to cement relations between the two camps which, havin' +their roots in mutyooal esteem, is shore to b'ar froote in fraternal +affection.' + +"The Doc then goes on an' onbends in flatterin' asshorances that +nothin' could be finer worded than the Red Dog chief's oration, onless +it's Enright's reply. + +"'As a jedge of diction,' he concloods, 'an' a lover of proper +speakin', I'm onreserved in the view that the statements of both ought +to be preeserved as spec'mens of English ondeefiled.' + +"Thar havin' been talk enough, an' Enright an' Peets contendin' that +it's Wolfville's treat, both sides goes weavin' over to the Red Light +an' onbends in quite a frolic. + +"It'd shore been better if we had first cut down the corpse, an' +tharby dodged the wrath of Missis Rucker. It's certainly a oversight. +Bar that single incident, thar arises nothin' to mar the good feelin' +which everywhar preevails. Forchoonately, that don't occur none ontil +noon next day; an' by that time the Red Dog folks has all gone home, +leastwise all who can go without fallin' out of the saddle. Which if +them Red Dogs is present, an' able to form opinions, them intemp'rate +exhibitions of Missis Rucker, an' what she says an' threatens ag'inst +us, speshully Enright, would have mortified us to death. + +"As showin' the vagaries of the female mind, Missis Rucker seelects +that lynchin' as a topic at chuck time, an' she shore does carry on +scand'lous. We ain't but jest filed into the dinin' room, when she +t'ars loose at Enright like a cyclone in a calico dress. Son, she +certainly does curry our old Lycurgus frightful! + +"What does Enright do? + +"Whatever can he do more'n mootely arch his back, same as a mule in a +storm of hail, an' stand it? + +"When Missis Rucker has done freed her feelin's, an' got them +reecrim'nations dealt down to the turn, she shakes a finger onder +Enright's subdooed nose, an' fulm'nates a warnin'. + +"'I tells you once before, Sam Enright,' she says, 'an' I tells you +now ag'in, that you-all drunkards is either goin' to cease pesterin' +me the way you does, or I'm bound I'll make some among you plenty hard +to locate. Now don't you go tellin' me nothin',' she shouts, as +Enright starts to say somethin'; 'don't go harrowin' me up with none +of your fabrications. It's nothin' but your egreegious pompos'ty that +a-way, an' a gen'ral deesire to put on dog an' lord it over us pore +females with meals to cook an' water to draw, which sets you-all to +hangin' parties to the windmill whar they're plumb in the way. An' all +after me takin' my hands out of the dough, too, the time you +Stranglers puts that B'ar Creek Stanton over the jump, an' goin' in +person to the stage corral to p'int out a beam which is a heap better +adapted.' + +"'But, ma'am,' expostyoolates Enright, 'you've done followed off the +wrong wagon track entire. It ain't us none; it's them Red Dog savages. +So far as Wolfville's concerned, him bein' swung to the windmill, that +a-way, is plumb fortooitous.' + +"'Jest the same,' returns Missis Rucker, who's merciless an' refooses +to be softened, 'you better take heed a heap. This once I lets you get +away with that Red Dog crawl-out. But if ever I finds another party +suspended to the windmill so's I can't get no water, thar's a passel +of sots, of whom you, Sam Enright, is the onregen'rate chief, who'll +shore get their grub fortooitous.' + +"Peets, at this yere crisis, jogs Enright's elbow, by way of signin' +up to him to draw out; an', except from her domineerin' over Rucker +more'n common for a couple of days, she ceases her demonstrations. + +"Not but what Missis Rucker has some rights on her side. What with +feedin' forty of us folks three times a day, she's got a lot on her +mind; an' to find some sooperfluous sport hangin' in her way, when she +goes to fill her bucket, necessar'ly chafes her. + +"An' yet the Stranglers is up ag'inst it, too. Hangin' a culprit, +dooly convicted, is a public game; an' the windmill's the only piece +of public property in sight, besides bein' centrally sityooated. Also, +thar's nothin' in that corral bluff of Missis Rucker's. The beam she +alloodes to ain't big enough, an' is likewise too low. + +"Boggs, who sympathizes with Missis Rucker, once when we has a hoss +thief we don't need on our hands, su'gests we rope him up to the sign +over Armstrong's Noo York store. But thar's rival trade interests, an' +Enright fears it'll be took invidious as a covert scheme for drawin' +custom to Armstrong's emporium. + +"'Personally,' says Enright, 'I favors Dan's idee. But since +Armstrong's a member of the committee, you-all sees yourselves that +for us to go execootin' culprits on his sign that a-way, the direct +effects of which distinguishes him an' booms his game, would shore +breed jealousies.' + +"'How would it do,' asks Texas, 'if we takes them marts seeriatim, +an' one after another yootilizes all their signs?' + +"'With doo deference to Texas,' interjecks Tutt, 'this swingin' round +from sign to sign, with deeds of jestice, is a heap likely to subtract +from the deterrent effects. It's better we stick to the windmill, an' +takes chances on beddin' them resentments of Missis Rucker's down.' + +"'That's all right for you, Dave,' retorts Boggs; 'you're a married +man, an' eats at home. You wouldn't feel so plumb gala about quietin' +Missis Rucker if you-all was obleeged diurnal to depend upon that +easily exasperated matron for your _frijoles_, same as us. Tucson +Jennie's the best cook in Cochise County, an', bein' her husband that +a-way, you ain't in no place to jedge.' + +"'Dan's right, Dave,' declar's Peets; 'surrounded as you be, you can't +sense our peril, that is, sense it proper. Admirable as Tucson Jennie +is as wife an' mother, an' I says this onbiased by bein' one of two +after whom little Enright Peets is named, she's still more admirable +in her role of cook. For which reason, Dave, you-all, when Missis +Rucker threatens us, ain't able, as Dan says, to rightly gauge said +menaces.' + +"Them coolinary compliments to Tucson Jennie placates Tutt. He's half +started to bow his neck at Boggs, but they mollifies him. + +"'Mighty likely you're correct, Doc,' he returns, his face cl'arin'; +'an' I begs Dan's pardon for some things I was goin' to say. My wife +is shore an exempl'ry cook, an' mebby I ain't no fit jedge. None the +less, you-all'll find, as to them hangin's, that this yere goin' about +from pillar to post with 'em is doo to rob 'em of their moral side.' + +"'I feels like Dave,' observes Enright, comin' in on the pow-wow. +'Lynchin's, to have weight an' be a credit to us, ought not to be +erratic. A lack of reg'larity about 'em would shake our standin' as a +camp.' + +"Monte starts the business that time when Red Dog astounds us with its +del'cacy, by comin' bulgin' in one evenin' with word about how the +leadin' inflooences in Tucson is broke out in a perfect deebauch of +spellin' schools. + +"'An' I'm yere to remark,' says he, in his conceited, rum-soaked way, +'that these yere contests contreebootes a mighty meetropol'tan +atmosphere.' + +"'Who orig'nates spellin' schools, anyway?' asks Boggs, whose +curiosity is allers at half-cock. 'Which it's the first time I hears +of sech things.' + +"'Spellin' schools ain't nothin' new,' Peets replies. 'They're as +common as deelirum treemons in the East.' + +"'Which they certainly be,' corroborates Enright. 'Back along the +Cumberland, as far away as when I'm a boy, we has 'em constant same as +chills an' fever. We-all young bucks attends 'em mighty loyal, too, +an' fights to see who-all goes home with the girls. When it comes to +bein' pop'lar, spellin' schools is a even break with gander +pullin's.' + +"'Thar's a Tucson kyard sharp,' continyoos Monte, 'over to the +Oriental s'loon, who tells me them spellin' schools is likewise all +the rage in Prescott an' Benson an' Silver City. That Lightnin' Bug +tarrapin' from Red Dog is loafin' about, too, while the kyard sharp's +talkin', his y'ears a-wavin' like a field of clover. You don't figger +thar's a chance that Red Dog gets the notion, Sam, an' takes to +holdin' them tournaments of learnin' itse'f?' + +"What Monte says sets us thinkin'. As a roole we don't pay much heed +to his observations, the same bein' freequent born of alcohol. But +that bluff about Red Dog sort o' scares us up a lot. Good can come out +of Nazareth, an' even Monte might once in a while drive the center as +a matter of luck. + +"'It wouldn't do us, Doc,' says Enright, who's made some oneasy by the +thought--'which it shore wouldn't do us, as an advanced camp, to let +Red Dog beat us to them spellin' schools.' + +"'I should confess as much!' admits Peets, mighty emphatic. 'Speakin' +from commoonal standp'ints, it'd mark us as too dead to skin.' + +"The sityooation takes shape in a resolootion to hold a spellin' +school ourselves, an' invite Red Dog to stand in. Sech steps is +calc'lated, we allows, to head off orig'nal action on the Red Dog +part. + +"'Let's challenge 'em to spell ag'in us,' says Texas. 'That's shore to +stop 'em from holdin' spellin' schools of their own, an' it'll be as +simple as tailin' steers to down 'em. I'll gamble what odds you +please that, when it comes to edyoocation that a-way, we can make them +Red Dogs look like a bunch of Digger Injuns.' + +"'Don't move your stack to the center on that proposition, Texas,' +observes Tutt, 'ontil you thoroughly skins your hand. Edyoocation +ain't wholly dead in Red Dog. Thar's a shorthorn over thar, him who +keeps books for the Wells-Fargo folks, who's edyoocated to a razor +edge.' + +"'Him?' says Boggs. 'That murderer ain't no book sharp speshul. Put +him ag'in the Doc or Col'nel Sterett, an' he wouldn't last as long as +a quart of whiskey at a barn raisin'. Which he's a heap sight better +fitted to shine in a gun-play than a spellin' contest.' + +"'But Col'nel Sterett ain't here none,' Tutt urges, 'havin' gone back +to see his folks; an' as for the Doc, he'll be needed to put out the +words. Some competent gent's got to go back of the box an' deal the +game, an' the Doc's the only stoodent in town who answers that +deescription.' + +"Armstrong, who's happened along lookin' for his little old forty +drops, lets on he knows a party down in El Paso who can spell any +word that ever lurks between the covers of a dictionary. + +"'That's straight,' Armstrong declar's. 'This yere El Paso savant can +spell anything. Which I've seen him spell the hind shoes off a +shavetail mule for the drinks. He's the boss speller of the Rio +Grande, so much so they calls him "Spellin' Book Ben."' + +"'Let's rope him up,' Peets suggests. 'Which them Red Dogs never will +quit talkin' if we-all lets 'em down us.' + +"'Do you-all reckon,' asks Enright, appealin' to Armstrong, 'you could +lure that El Paso expert up yere to partic'pate in this battle of the +intellects?' + +"'It's as easy as playin' seven-up,' Armstrong replies. 'Which I'll +write him I needs his aid to count up the stock in my store, an' you +bet he'll come a-runnin'.' + +"'But s'ppose,' argues Tutt, 'these Red Dog crim'nals wakes up to it +that this yere Spellin' Book Ben's a ringer?' + +"'In that event,' declar's Texas, 'we retorts by beltin' 'em over the +heads with our guns. Be they, as guests, to go dictatin' terms to +us?' + +"'Not onless they're tired of life,' says Boggs. 'While I can't spell +none to speak of, seein' my Missouri youth is more or less neglected +by my folks, showin' some Red Dog felon whar he's in wrong is duck +soup to me. In a play like that I sees my way triumphant.' + +"'Shore!' Texas insists, mighty confident; 'let Red Dog wag one feeble +y'ear, an' we buffaloes it into instant submission.' + +"'They can't make no objections stick,' Enright observes, after +thinkin' things over. 'This Spellin' Book Ben person'll be workin' for +Armstrong, an' that, as the Doc says, makes him a _pro tem._ citizen +of the camp. As sech he's plumb legit'mate. Red Dog couldn't lower its +horns at him as a hold-out, even if it would.' + +"It's settled, an' from then on thar's nothin' talked of but spellin' +schools. We issues our deefiance, Peets b'arin' the same, an' Red Dog +promptly calls our bluff. Regyardin' themselves as entrenched in that +gifted Wells-Fargo book-keep, they're mighty eager for the fray. The +_baile_ is set two weeks away, with Peets to hold the spellin' book. + +"After the time is fixed Monte comes squanderin' along an' gets +Enright to move it one day further on. + +"'Because, Sam,' the old sot urges, puffin' out his chest like he +amounts to somethin', 'that partic'lar evenin' you pitches upon I'll +be at the other end of the route, an' I proposes to get in on this +yere contest some myse'f.' + +"'You?' says Boggs, who overhears him, an' is nacherally astonished +an' contempchoous at Monte's nerve. 'Whatever be you-all talkin' +about? You can't spell none no more than me. The first word the Doc +names'll make you look like a pig at church.' + +"'All the same'--for Monte's been drinkin', an' allers gets stubborn +in direct proportion to what licker he tucks onder his belt--'all the +same, Dan, as to this yere spellin', I proposes to ask for kyards. +Even if I ain't no Bach'lor of Arts, so long as the Doc don't fire +nothin' at me worse'n words of one syllable, an' don't send 'em along +faster than two at a clatter, your Uncle Monte'll get thar, collars +creakin', chains a-rattlin', with both hoofs.' + +[Illustration: "ONLESS GIRLS IS BARRED," DECLARES FARO NELL, FROM HER +PERCH ON THE CHAIR "I'VE A NOTION TO TAKE A HAND." p. 337.] + +"Red Dog not only accepts our challenge, but gets that brash it offers +to bet. Shore, we closes with the prop'sition. It ain't no part of our +civic economy to let Red Dog get by with anything. I reckons, up one +side an' down the other, we puts up the price of eight hundred steers. +Texas and Boggs simply goes all spraddled out at it, while Cherokee +calls down one eboolient Red Dog specyoolator for three thousand +dollars. It's Wolfville ag'inst Red Dog, the roole to govern, 'Miss +an' out!' + +"The excitement even reaches the gentler sect. + +"'Which onless girls is barred,' declar's Nell, speakin' from her +lookout cha'r the second evenin' before the spellin' school is held, +'I've a notion to take a hand.' + +"'It wouldn't be a squar' deal, Nellie,' says Texas. 'With you in, +everybody'd miss a-purpose.' + +"'I don't see why none,' says Nell. + +"'For two reasons; first, because you're dazzlin'ly beautiful; an', +second, because Cherokee's too good a shot.' + +"'Shore,' says Boggs, plantin' a stack of reds open on the high kyard. +'Them contestants'd all lay down to you, Nellie. You certainly don't +reckon Cherokee'd set thar, him all framed up with a Colt's .45, an' +be that ongallant as to permit some clown to spell you down?' + +"Nell don't insist, an' the turn fallin' 'king-jack,' she nacherally +moves Boggs's reds to the check-rack. + +"On the great evenin' Red Dog comes surgin' in upon us, snortin' an' +prancin' an' pitchin'. Which it certainly is a confident band of +prairie dogs. Wolfville's organized and ready, Armstrong's Spellin' +Book Ben party havin' come over from El Paso three days prior. + +"Seein' how mighty se'f-possessed them Red Dogs feel, Boggs begins to +grow nervous. + +"'You don't reckon, Dave,' says he, speakin' to Tutt, 'that them +miscreents has got anything up their sleeve?--any little thing like a +ace buried?' + +"'Which they wouldn't dare. Also, since you brings the matter up, Dan, +I now gives notice that for myse'f I shall regyard success on their +part as absoloote proof of perfidy. That settled, I sacks that hamlet +of Red Dog, an' plows an' sows its deboshed site with salt.' + +"'That's the talk!' says Boggs. 'Let 'em win once, an' you an' me, +Dave,'ll caper over in our individyooal capac'ty, an' lay waste that +Red Dog hamlet if it's the last act of our lives.' + +"The spellin' school is schedjooled for the r'ar wareroom of the Noo +York store, whar the Stranglers convenes. All Red Dog is thar, +dressed up like a hoss, their Wells-Fargo book-keep in their exultant +midst. Enright calls the meetin' to order with the butt of his +six-shooter; our old warchief allers uses his gun as a gavel that +a-way, as lookin' more offishul. Also, since the dooty of a +presidin' officer is to preserve order, it's in line to begin with a +show--not too ondecorous--of force. + +"Enright states the object of the gatherin', an' Peets, spellin' book +in hand, swings into the saddle an' in a moment is off at a road gait. +The words falls thick an' sharp, like the crackin' of a rifle. Which +they shore does thin out them contestants plenty rapid! Boggs goes +down before 'Theery,' spellin' it with a extra 'e.' Tutt lasts through +three fires, but is sent curlin' like a shot jack-rabbit by 'Epitaph,' +which he ends with a 'f.' Texas dies on 'Definite,' bein' misled by +what happens to Tutt into introdoocin' tharin a sooperfluous 'ph.' + +"'I ain't none astonished,' Texas says sadly, when Peets informs him +that he's in the diskyard; 'since ever my former Laredo wife acquires +that divorce, together with al'mony an' the reestoration of her maiden +name, the same bein' Suggs, I ain't been the onerrin' speller I once +was.' + +"Cherokee has luck, an' lasts for quite a time. It's the 'leventh word +that fetches him. An' at that thar's a heap to be said on the side of +Cherokee. + +"The word's 'Capitol,' as Peets lets it fly. + +"'C-a-p-i-t-a-l,' spells Cherokee. + +"'Dead bird!' Peets says, plenty sententious. + +"'Whatever kind o' capital?' + +"'Capitol of a State.' + +"'Then I misonderstands you. Which I takes it you're referrin' to a +bankroll.' + +"The Doc, however, is obdoorate, an' Cherokee shoves back. + +"'I think,' says Nell, whisperin' to Missis Rucker an' Tucson Jennie, +who, with little Enright Peets, is off to one side--'I think the Doc's +a mighty sight too contracted in his scope.' + +"Monte falls by the wayside on 'Scenery,' an' is that preepost'rous +he starts to give Peets an argyooment. Monte spells it 'Seenry.' + +"'Whar do you-all get your licence, Doc,' he demands, when Peets tells +him how it's spelled, 'to jam in that misfit "c"? Me havin' drove +stage for twenty years, I've seen as much scenery as any gent present, +an' should shore know how it's spelled. Scenery is what you sees. +"S-e-e" spells see; an' tharfore I contends that "S-e-e-n-r-y" spells +scenery. That "c" you springs on us, Doc, is a solecism, an' as much +out of place as a cow on a front porch.' + +"Enright raps Monte down. '"Scenery" is spelled any way which the Doc +says,' declar's Enright, his eye some severe, 'an' I trusts no gent'll +compel the cha'r to take measures.' + +"'Say no more,' responds Monte, plenty humble and prompt. 'What I +urges is only to 'licit information. I still thinks, however, that +onder the gen'ral wellfare clause of the constitootion, an' with an +onfenced alphabet to pick an' choose from, a sport ought to have the +inalienable right to spell things the way he likes. Otherwise, +whatever is the use of callin' this a free country? If a gent's to be +compelled to spell scenery with a fool "c," I asks you why was +Yorktown an' wharfore Bunker Hill?' + +"Monte, havin' thus onloaded, reetires to the r'ar, coverin' his +chagrin by hummin' a stanzy or two from the well-known ditty, 'Bill, +of Smoky Hill.' + + Bill driv three spans of hosses, + An' when Injuns hove in sight, + He'd holler "Fellers, give 'em hell! + I ain't got time to fight." + + But he chanced one time to run ag'in + A bullet made of lead, + An' when they brung Bill into town, + A bar'l of tears was shed. + +"While Texas an' Boggs an' Tutt an' Cherokee an' Monte an' the rest of +the Wolfville outfit is fallin' like November's leaves, them Red Dog +bandits is fadin' jest as fast. If anything, they're fadin' faster. +They're too p'lite or too proodent to cavil at the presence of +Spellin' Book Ben, an' by third drink time after we starts thar's no +gents left standin' except that Wells-Fargo book-keep sharp for Red +Dog, an' Spellin' Book for us. It's give an' take between 'em for +mebby one hundred words, an' neither so much as stubs his orthographic +toe. + +"The evenin' w'ars into what them poets calls the 'small hours.' +Missis Rucker is wearily battin' her eyes, while little Enright Peets +is snorin' guinea-pig snores in Tucson Jennie's lap. + +"Thar comes a pause for Black Jack to pass the refreshments, an' Nell +takes advantage of the lull. + +"'Hopin' no one,' says Nell, 'will think us onp'lite, we ladies will +retire. Jedgin' from the way little Enright Peets sounds, not to +mention how I feels or Missis Rucker looks, it's time we weaker +vessels hits the blankets.' + +"'Yes, indeed,' adds Missis Rucker, smothering a yawn with her hand; +'I'd certainly admire to stay a whole lot, but rememberin' the hour I +thinks, like Nellie, that we-all ladies better pull our freight.' + +"Enright settin' the example, we gents stands up while the ladies +withdraws, little Enright Peets bein' drug along between Nell an' +Tucson Jennie plumb inert. + +"Peets resoomes his word-callin', an' them two heroes spells on for a +hour longer. + +"At last, however, the Wells-Fargo book-keep sharp commences to turn +shaky; the pressure's beginnin' to tell. As for Spellin' Book Ben, +he's as steady as a church. + +"'By the grave of Moses, Dan,' Tutt whispers to Boggs, 'that Red Dog +imposter's on the brink of a stampede.' + +"Peets gives out 'colander'; it's Spellin' Book Ben's turn. As he +starts to whirl his verbal loop the Red Dog adept whips out his gun, +an' jams it ag'inst Spellin' Book's ribs. + +"'Spell it with a "u,"' says the Red Dog sharp, 'or I'll shore send +you shoutin' home to heaven! Which I've stood all of your dad-binged +eryoodition my nerves is calk'lated to endoore.' + +"Spellin' Book Ben's game, game as yaller wasps. With the cold muzzle +of that book-keep murderer's hint to the onconverted pushin' into his +side, he never flickers. + +"'C-o,' he begins. + +"But that's as far as he ever gets. Thar's a dull roar, an' pore +Spellin' Book comes slidin' from his learned perch. It's done so +quick that not even Jack Moore has time to hedge a stack down the +other way. + +"'It's too late, Doc,' says pore Spellin' Book, as Peets stoops over +him; 'he gets me all right.' Then he rolls a gen'ral eye on all. +'Gents,' he says, 'don't send my remainder back to El Paso. Boot Hill +does me.' + +"Them's Spellin' Book's last words, an' they does him proud. + +"It's the Lightnin' Bug who grabs the murderin' book-keep sharp, an' +takes his gun away. Then he swings him before Enright. + +"'He's your pris'ner,' says the Red Dog chief, actin' for his outfit, +an' Enright bows his acknowledgments. + +"Son, it's a lesson to see them two leaders of men. Enright never +shows up nobler, an' you can wager your bottom peso that the Red Dog +chief is a long shot from bein' a slouch. + +"Jack Moore takes the Wells-Fargo book-keep homicide in charge, while +Enright, who declar's that jestice to be effectyooal must be swift, +says that onless shown reason he'll convene the committee at once. He +adds, likewise, that it'll be kindly took if the Red Dog chief, an' +what members of his triboonal is present, will b'ar their part. + +"In all p'liteness, the Red Dog chief deeclines. + +"'This is your joorisdiction,' he says, 'an' we Red Dogs can only +return the compliment which your su'gestion implies by asshorin' +you-all of our advance confidence in the rectitoode of what jedgments +you inflicts.' + +"'Speak your piece,' says Enright to the Wells-Fargo book-keep +culprit, when stood up before him by Moore. 'Whatever prompts you to +blow out this Spellin' Book Ben's candle that a-way?' + +"'Let me say,' exclaims the Wells-Fargo book-keep murderer, an' his +manner is some torrid, 'that I has five hundred dollars bet on this +yere contest----' + +"'That is a question,' interrupts Enright, suave but plenty firm, +'which will doubtless prove interestin' to your execooter. This, +however, is not the time nor place. I asks ag'in, whatever is your +reason for shovin' this yere expert in orthography from shore?' + +"'Do you-all think,' returns the Wells-Fargo murderer, 'that I'll +abide to see a obscoority like him outspell me?--me, who's the +leadin' speller of eight States and two territories, an' never scores +less than sixty-five out of a poss'ble fifty? Which I'd sooner die.' + +"'So you'd sooner die?' repeats Enright, as cold an' dark an' short as +a November day. 'Well, most folks don't get their sooners in this +world, but it looks a heap like you will!' Turnin' to Moore, he goes +on: 'Our friends from Red Dog'll hold your captive, Jack, while +you-all goes rummagin' over to the corral an' gets a rope, the +committee havin' come onprovided.' + +"Moore gives the Wells-Fargo homicide to the Red-Dog chief, an' +tharupon, we Stranglers bein' ready to go into execyootive session, +all hands except Enright an' the committee steps outside. We're in +confab mebby it's ten minutes, an' Enright has jest approved a +yoonanimous vote in favor of hangin', when thar's a modest tap at the +door. + +"It's the Lightnin' Bug. + +"'It ain't,' he says, when we asks his mission, 'that we-all aims to +disturb your deelib'rations none, gents, but the chief'd like to +borry Doc Peets for five minutes to say a few words over the corpse.' + +"Upon this yere hint we-all gambols forth, an' finds what's left of +the Wells-Fargo book-keep murderer adornin' the windmill. Thar's whar +their del'cacy comes in; that's how them Red Dogs saves us from a +disagree'ble dooty. + +"We plants Spellin' Book Ben on Boot Hill as per that sufferer's last +request, an' Red Dog graces the obsequies to a man. Thar Spellin' Book +lies to-day; an' the story of his ontoward takin' off, as told on that +tombstone conj'intly erected as aforesaid by Wolfville an' Red Dog, is +anyooally read by scores of devotees of learnin' who, bar'-headed an' +mournful, comes as pilgrims to his grave." + +THE END + + + + +"THE ART OF THE PHOTOPLAY" is a condensed textbook of the technical +knowledge necessary for the preparation and sale of motion picture +scenarios. More than 35,000 photoplays are produced annually in the United +States. The work of staff-writers is insufficient. Free-lance writers have +greater opportunities than ever before, for the producing companies can +not secure enough good comedies and dramas for their needs. The first +edition of this book met with unusual success. Its author, now the +Director General of Productions for the Beaux Arts Film Corporation, is +the highest paid scenario writer in the world, as well as being a +successful producing manager. Among his successes were the scenarios for +the spectacular productions: "Robin Hood," "The Squaw Man," "The Banker's +Daughter," "The Fire King," "Checkers," "The Curse of Cocaine" and "The +Kentucky Derby." + +WHAT THOSE WHO KNOW HAVE SAID: + +"In my opinion, based upon six years' experience producing motion +pictures, Mr. Eustace Hale Ball is the most capable scenario writer in the +business to-day." + + (Signed) W. F. Haddock, + Producing Director with Edison, Eclair, All Star, and + now President, Mirror Film Corporation. + +"Mr. Ball has thoroughly grasped present day and future possibilities of +the Moving Picture business with relation to the opportunities for real +good work by scenario writers." + + (Signed) P. Kimberley, + Managing Director, Imperial Film Company, Ltd., + London, England. + +"To those who wish to earn some of the money which the moving picture folk +disburse, Eustace Hale Ball proffers expert and valuable advice." + + New York Times Review of Books. + +"Ball's Art of the Photoplay puts into concrete form, with expert +simplicity, the secrets of writing photoplays which appeal to the millions +of Americans who attend the theatres and the producers can not buy enough +of such plays to satisfy the exhibitors." + + (Signed) Robert Lee Macnabb, + National Vice-President, Motion Picture + Exhibitor's League of America. + +"You have succeeded in producing a clear and helpful exposition of the +subject." + + (Signed) Wm. R. Kane, + Editor of "The Editor Magazine." + +12 mo. Cloth bound, $1.00 Net. + +G. W. DILLINGHAM CO., Publishers NEW YORK + + + + +THREE SPLENDID BOOKS BY + +ALFRED HENRY LEWIS + +FARO NELL AND HER FRIENDS + +A new story of "Wolfville" days--the best of all. It pictures the fine +comradeship, broad understanding and simple loyalty of Faro Nell to her +friends. Here we meet again Old Monte, Dave Tutt, Cynthiana, Pet-Named +Original Sin, Dead Shot Baker, Doc Peets, Old Man Enright, Dan Boggs, +Texas and Black Jack, the rough-actioned, good-hearted men and women who +helped to make this author famous as a teller of tales of Western frontier +life. + +12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Popular Edition. 50 Cents + +THE APACHES OF NEW YORK + +A truthful account of actual happenings in the underworld of vice and +crime in the metropolis, that gives an appalling insight into the life of +the New York criminal. It contains intimate, inside information concerning +the gang fights and the gang tyranny that has since startled the entire +world. The book embraces twelve stories of grim, dark facts secured +directly from the lips of the police and the gangsters themselves. + +12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. 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Burke, assisted by Mary, +tracks the evil doers. After a sensational series of fights mixed with +thrilling detective work, many women, including the young sister, are +saved. The operations of the gangsters, in securing victims from the +emigrant ships, the railroad stations and the working classes are shown in +a manner treated delicately, yet imbued with a powerful moral lesson. The +tender love story of Bobbie and Mary purges the book of the morbidity +which it would otherwise possess. This photo-drama feature is the only one +dealing with White Slavery conditions which has met the unqualified +sanction of the District-Attorney's office, the Board of Censorship and +the other vice crusading societies of New York. + +12mo. Cloth. + +Illustrated with unusual photographs of the action of the drama. + +Popular Price, 50 cents net. By Mail, 60 cents. + +G. W. 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