Wolfville

ne of them th

uiet smoke. The Old Cattleman had just thrown down his paper; the half-

puffed voluminously at the principe I passed over, "I think

urse'f,' asks the jedge of this yer

oneasy by so much attentions bein' shown hire, 'which I was a-eatin' of a few sardines, a-

ot to say ambiguous

ffed content

his you speak of?" I ask

to me complete. They was waggin' along with it when I trails into Socorro that time, an' I merely sa'nters ove

his yere gent who's killed?' a

ays the witness, `the dyin' statement

ys the jedge, like he's commentin' to himse'f, 'he'd sh

elapsed into silence and

out?" I queried. "Was th

be back on the range with their cattle. So the fifth day, when things is loiterin' along at the trial till it looks like the law has hobbles on, an' the word goes round it's goin' to be a week yet before the jury gets action on this miscreant who's bein' t

ilence and smoke, the Old

way them aliens plays hoss. It's obvious as stars on a cl'ar night, they never means fight a little bit. I abhors dooels, an' cowers from the mere idee. But, after all, business is business, an' when folks fights 'em

f flapdoodle. When a gent notices the signs a-gettin' about right for him to go on the war-path, he picks out his meat, surges up, an' declar's himse'f. The victim, who is most likely a mighty serious an' experienced person, don't copper the play by makin' vain remarks, but brings his gatlin' into play surprisin'. Next it's bang! bang! bang

of us is sorter pervadin' 'round the dance-hall, it bein' the biggest an' coolest store in camp. A monte game is strugglin' for breath in a feeble, f

treet a-yellin' an' a-whirlin' the loop of his rope,

he hoss?' says Enright, a- regardin' o

llows he's called "The Man from Red Dog." He says he's took a day off

an' his old woman, Marie, a-fussin' with each other in front of the New York Store

rawls out yere to offend a sufferin' public for? Whyever don't they stay in their wickeyup an' fight, an' not take to puttin' it all over

contestants an' jumps his bronco up the street like it's come outen a g

dle, an' thar they be. We-alls goes over from the dance-hall, extricatin' of 'em, an' final they rounds

Dog man, ridin' back for his rope. 'I offers two to on

the Red Dog man leaves his bluff a-hangin' an' goes into the dan

's my night to howl. Don't 'rouse me, barkeep, with the sight of merely one bottle; s

an' the Red Dog man tucks his onder hi

e old he-coon of this

, soopercil

plenty safe as a play to let your wisdom f

kes my first idle day to ride over an' line things up. Now yere I be, an' while I regrets it, I finds you-alls is a lawless, onregenerate set, a heap sight worse than roo

makin' them schemes you ain't lookin' for no tr

utes I distributes this yere hamlet 'round in the landscape same as them

plenty p'lite to let us kno

lets fly this hint, so any of you-alls as has got bric-a-brac he

en Enright an' the Red Dog man, mighty positive. Cherokee is a heap sot i

of work cut out,' sa

nt, 's'pose we tips

ith friend, an' I drinks with foe; with the pard of my b

a-holdin' of it in his hand. I wants to say

ic improvements you aims to make; sech as mo

man, 'an' the holycaust I 'nitiates

ict confidence without holdin' out a kyard. When you- all talks of tearin' up Wo

ells the frenzied Red Dog

e spills the glass of whiskey straight in his eyes

his nine- inch bowie shines in his hand like the sting of a wasp. 'I shore fixes him so he can't get a job clerkin' in a

to the Red Light, fix his eyes all right, an' then tell him, if he thinks he needs blood in this, to take his Winchester an' go north in the middle of the street. In twenty minutes by t

nute word comes to Cherokee as his eyes is roundin' up all proper, an' that he's makin' war-medicine an' is growin' more hostile consta

arms 'round his neck. 'I'm 'fraid he's goin' to down you. Ain't t

Jest to spar' Nell's feelin's, Cherokee, an' not to interfer

o hold themse'fs ready to face any game on the word, an' they never weakens or lays down. An' another thing, little girl; I gets this

e'll go, an' won't stop to see the shootin' none. We applauds the idee, thinkin' she might sh

nin' up his big sombrero, he squar's 'round, cocks his gun, an' waits. Then Enright goes out with Cherokee an' stands him in

s to one side an' drops my

. Bangety! Bang! Bang! goes the rifles like the roll of a drum. Cherokee can work a Wincheste

second, he starts to cripplin' down at his knees. At last he comes ahead on his face like a landslide. Thar's tw

m onto a monte- table. Bimeby he comes to a littl

og man. 'I ain't allowin' for my old mother in Missoury to be told as how I dies in no g

away at his boots. About the time we gets 'em off he sa

s vivacious party's plumb locoed. Yere's his hind-sights wedged up for a thousand yards, an' he's been a-shootin' of cartridges with a hundred a

girl, who colors up an' begins to cry ag'in, 'did

erokee; so I slides over when you-all

gent manip'lates his weepon shows he knows his game; an' except for you a-set

might as well drink on it. Hist'ry never shows a game yet, an' a woman in