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Wolfville Days

Chapter 10 No.10

Word Count: 3112    |    Released on: 29/11/2017

Dumb M

"this yere dumb man' incident ever arises to my mind ag'in, if it ain't for a

' free, like he's shore a friendly Injun. At last he sa'nters over an' remarks, 'Whatever is your callin', pard?' or s

, an' I observes he grows red an' ashamed plumb up to his white ha'r. "Excuse me, amigo," I says, handin' out my paw, which he seizes all radiant an' soon, "I ain't intendin' nothin' blunt, nor to slam no door on better acquaintance, but when you-all ropes at me about what you refers to as my "callin"' that time, I ain't jest lookin' for a st

ssion onder the head of mes'lancous business, I reckons, an' lie puts it up his long suit, as he calls it, is `moral epidemics.' He says he's wrote one book onto 'em, an' sw'ar:; he'll write another if nobody heads him off; the same bein' on-likely. As he sees how I'm interested, the old sport sets down an' lays it out to me how sentiments goes i

d game, an' I thinks myse'f his system has p'ints. At this, he admits he's flattered; an' then, as we're gettin' to the ends of our lariats, we tips our sombrer

ecalls this dumb an' deef man incident; which it sort o' backs his play. It's a time when a passel of us gets overcome by waves of sentiment that a-way, an' not only turns

now this old science sharp expounds his theory of 'moral epidemics,' it gets c

dumb, an' ain't sayin' a word. I sees him hoverin' 'round, but I don't say nothin' to him. I observes him once or twice write things to folks he has to talk with on a piece of paper, but it's too slo

, an' stud, an' other devices which is open an' common; an' gents who's with him at the ti

e ag'inst faro-bank. But as gents often goes broke ag'inst faro-bank, an' as, in trooth, I tastes

ound in the Red Light, which, so to speak, is the Wolfville Club, an' killin' time by talkin'. Dave Tutt an' T

before ever they swings him off. Texas objects to them pray'rs an' brands 'em as hypocrisies. As happens frequent-for both is power

ts at that time present who's experts in sech appeals an' who knows what prayin' is, who allows that for fervency, bottom an' speed, they shorely makes the record for what you

ent, I'd shorely like to know?' says Tutt

eavenly gate. Now, whatever do you reckon a saint who knows his business is goin' to say to that? Yere stands this conceited Laredo party recommendin' for admission on high a Mexican he's

d. If they don't, you can gamble your spurs they're plenty able to protect themse'fs. All you can do is file them supplications. The angels lets 'em go or turns 'em down accordin'. Now, I holds that

pray, let him pray, an' not go pesterin' himse'f with vain surmises as to how it's goin' to strike them hosts on high. You can wager you ain't goin' to ride 'round Omnipotence none. Yo

for when he's that far along, one of the niggers from the corral comes scurryin' up an' as

. 'You don't aim to tell me none he'

corral, makes a motion or two with his hands, cinches the hull onto the pinto, an' lines out

open-air, noon-day hoss-stealin', I offers even money th

evotes itse'f, it's breakin' people of this habit of hoss-stealin'. It ain't no time when f

actus desert, with water holes fifty miles apart, it would begin to glimmer on you as to what it means to find yourse'f afoot. It would come over you like a la

framed up with a gun all reg'lar at the time, it goes a long way toward exculpatin' of the sport who outlives him. But thar ai

o's got Texas Thompson's pinto pony. From the tracks, he ain't makin' no play to throw us off, for

oo mainly, however, because the pinto sticks a cactus thorn in its h

in' the drop as we swings up

ions, as the dumb party ain't packin

we takes him. Texas hefts him outen the sadd

the deecorous way is to go on with this yere aggressive an' e

ith his fingers, it's a heap too complicated for us as a means of makin' statements. "'I shore couldn't tell,' says Dave Tutt, as he sets watchin' the dumb man's play, 'whether he's callin' us names or askin' for whiskey.' "'Which if we'd thought to bring some stationery,' says Texas, after we-all goes through our war-bags in vain, 'we might open some successful negotiations with this person. As it is, however, we're plumb up ag'inst it, an' I reckon, Boggs, he'll have to hang without you an' him bein'

the document over to Boggs. 'Read her out, Dan; I'd p

m free to say, even without hearin' that document none, that I shorely hesitates to string this party up.

ou wouldn't be annoyin' yourse'f about his bein' locoed. I finds him plenty deep an' wary, not to say plumb crafty. Another thing, it

with his arms roped behind him, an' lookin' like hope has died; an' also like he ain't carin' much about it neither. Wh

' says Tutt, as he rums his eye over it. 'She's d

at from his arms an' throws him loose. But don't try to run no wife bluff on me; I've been through the wife question with a blazin' pine-knot in my hand, an' thar's nothin' worth while concealed tharin.' "'Which I adopts the ainendiricnt,' says Boggs, 'an' on second thought, I strings my chips with Texas, that this yere Myra's his mother. I've got the money that says so.' "'At any rate,' says Tutt, 'from all I sees, I reckons it's the general notion that we calls this thing a draw. We can't afford to go makin' a preecedent of hangin' a gent for hoss-stealin' who's only doin' his best to be present at this Myra's fooneral, whoever she may be. It's a heap disgustin', however, that we can't open up a talk with this party. Which I now notes by the address his name is McIntyre.' "An' so it turns out that in no time, from four gents who's dead set to hang this dumb man as a boss-thief, we turns into a sympathetic outfit

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