"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.



"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.



"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.'



"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.'