"My idee is that whoever offends this little one by unproper language shall be filled full of bullet holes: how does _that_ strike you?"

"It hits me just right!" responded the landlord, with several nods of his head; "but there's one thing in the way."

"What's that?" demanded Wade, showing some temper at this attack upon his scheme.

"It 'lows a man to say the unproper words in the hearin' of the angel, _afore_ he's shot; so it won't prevent her ears from being 'fended.

Can't we fix it some way, so that she shan't hear 'em at all?"

"There's no trouble about that," solemnly remarked Budge Isham from his seat at the further end of the room; "You have only to find out when a fellow has made up his mind to use improper language in the presence of the child, and then shoot him before he can say the words."

"But how shall we know he's going to say 'em?" inquired the chairman, who in the earnestness of his feelings felt no suspicion of the honesty of his friend.

"You will have to judge that by the expression of his countenance. I think when a fellow has made up his mind to swear his looks give notice of what is coming. The rest of us must be on the alert and pick him off before the words get out of his mouth. And yet I am sorry to say," added Budge gravely rising to his feet, "that there is one serious drawback to my proposition."

"The chairman is anxious to hear it."

"There might be mistakes made. A man's expression is not always an index of his thoughts. He might be suffering from some inward pain, and be in the act of uttering some expression, but his face could have so mean a look that if our law was in force, he would be shot on sight. For instance, studying these faces all turned toward me, I should say, speaking on general principles, that all except one or two deserve, not shooting, but hanging, and if looks were to determine a man's depth of infamy, mighty few of you would live five minutes."

Budge sank gravely into his seat and resumed smoking, while his friends, understanding his trifling character, contemptuously refused attention to his disrespectful remarks. In the general discussion which followed, several insisted that the only proper punishment for the grave offence was death; but the sentiment crystallized into the feeling that that penalty was somewhat severe for the first breaking of the law. It was proper enough for the second crime, but a man who had been accustomed to picturesque and emphatic words was liable to err once at least while on the road to reformation. The agreement finally reached was that the offender should be heavily fined, compelled to fast several days, or, more frightful than all, be deprived of the privileges of the bar for the same length of time.

When the last penalty was fixed there were several suppressed groans and a general setting of lips, with the unshakable resolve to steer clear of that appalling punishment.

Everything was serene for several days, when, as might have been antic.i.p.ated, the explosion came. Al Bidwell, in coming out of the Heavenly Bower, caught the toe of one of his boots and fell forward on his hands and knees. Two of his friends seeing him naturally laughed, whereupon, as he picked himself up, he demanded in the name of the presiding genius of hades, what they saw to laugh at. By way of answer, one of them pointed to Nellie Dawson, who ran forward to help him to his feet.

"Did you hurt yourself, Mr. Bidwell? I's so sorry."

"You may well be, little one," was the bitter response, as he realized his awful offence; "for this will play thunder with me--there it goes agin! Please don't say another word," he exclaimed desperately, striding down the street to save himself from piling up a mountain of unpardonable crimes.

The committee did not gather until late that evening, for Nellie was at home and it was thought advisable to wait until she was asleep, so that she should not know anything of what was in the air. The conversation was in subdued tones until Mr. Dawson tip-toed out of the rear room, with the announcement that the little one was sunk in slumber.

"Such bein' the case," remarked Wade Ruggles, with becoming gravity, "this meeting will proceed to bus'ness. Pards, a hein'us crime has been committed among us. In the proud history of New Constantinople, we've had hangin' bees; we've shot three Injins 'cause they _was_ Injins; there has been any number of holes plugged inter them as was a little careless of speech, and more'n once there has been the devil to pay, but nothin' like this, _never_! Vose Adams, you was one as heard this wretch Bidwell indulge in his shocking profanity. You'll be good 'nough to give the partic'lars to the gents that I must warn to brace themselves fur the shock."

Vose Adams told the story which was familiar to all. He and Budge Isham were approaching the Heavenly Bower that forenoon, the cause being a due regard for the requirement of the laws of health, when Albert Bidwell, the accused, stubbed his toe. Hearing a laugh, he looked up and demanded to know what the ---- they were laughing at.

While the query, though objectionable on aesthetic grounds, might have pa.s.sed muster in the diggings or anywhere in New Constantinople previous to the advent of the angel at present making her home with them, yet the horror of the thing was that the aforesaid angel heard it. She ran to the help of the villain, who added to his monumental crime by calmly remarking to her that what he had just said would play thunder with him.

This second offence was unanimously felt by those present to be more unpardonable than the first, since it was in the nature of an addendum, had nothing to do with the business proper, and worst of all, was addressed to Nellie herself.

Chairman Ruggles turned his severest frown upon the prisoner, who was sitting disconsolately on a box, and drawing at his brier wood pipe, which in the depth of his emotion, he failed to notice was unlighted.

"What has the prisoner to say fur himself?"

Bidwell shuffled to his feet, took the pipe from his mouth and looked around upon the cold, unsympathetic faces.

"Wal, pards," he remarked, heaving a great sigh, "I don't see that there's anything partic'lar fur me to say. When a thing is fairly proved onto you, you can't make nothin' by denyin' of the same. I've been tryin' to walk a chalk line ever since the angel arrove among us.

Two or three times I fell over backward and bruised my head, owin' to my tryin' to stand up too straight. I was just bracin' myself to do the same as aforesaid, when comin' out of this disgraceful place, when I took a headlong dive and struck the earth so hard, I must have made a bulge in China. Two unmannerly ijuts that happened to see me, instead of expressin' sorrer for my mishap, broke out laughin', and in my righteous indignation, I asked them a emphatic question."

"Ord'narily," observed the Court, "your explanation would do. In the old times, nothin' would have been said if you'd drawed your gun and give 'em a lesson in manners, but that aint the question afore the house: Why did you do it in the presence of the angel?"

"Didn't see her till after the crime was committed."

"But why didn't you look fur her to larn whether she was in sight or was liable to hear your shocking words?"

"Didn't think of it."

"Your reply only aggervates the offence. If any man feels that he must swear or bust, he must bust, purvided the little one is in sight; or he must hold in till he can climb on top of the rocks, or creep among the foothills where he's sure of being alone. The Court hain't any 'bjection to your thinking all the cuss words you want to, but you mus'n't speak 'em when she's about. You understand the position of the Court?"

"I'd be a fool if I didn't," growled the accused.

"It's onnecessary to understand 'em in order to be a fool, Mr.

Bidwell, but how 'bout your second offence, when you used the word 'thunder,' and addressed it to the gal herself?"

The prisoner felt that nothing could be said in palliation of this charge.

"That _was_ bad bus'ness, I'll confess; but I was so disgusted with myself that I didn't know what I was doing or saying; the words come out afore I had time to pull myself together. I was so afeard of adding something still worser that I just rushed off to git out of danger."

[Ill.u.s.tration: AS HE PICKED HIMSELF UP, HE DEMANDED IN THE NAME OF THE PRESIDING GENIUS OF HADES WHAT THEY SAW TO LAUGH AT.--PAGE 43.]

"There's where you showed the first grain of sense the Court ever knowed you to show. If I had been in your place, I would have jumped off the rocks, into the kenyon, two thousand feet below. If you'd done that you'd been saved the disgrace of being put on trial in this honorable Court. Gents," added Ruggles, glancing from the prisoner into the expectant faces, "since the man owns up, it rests with you to fix the penalty for his crime of bigamous murder."

The prisoner resumed his seat and the chairman looked around, as an invitation for those present to express their views. When they came to do so, a wide diversity came to the surface. Vose Adams suggested that the criminal be compelled to go without any food for three days, but this was not favorably received, since the rough, trying life which each man had been compelled to follow at times during the past years, made the punishment much less than it appeared to be.

Ike Hoe suggested that instead of food, the accused's liquid refreshment should be shut off for the time named. The accused groaned.

When this had continued for some time, Felix Brush, the parson, took the floor.

"Gentlemen, it's a principle in law to be lenient with the first offence, and, since this is the first time that Bidwell has offended and he deeply feels his disgrace, why not require him to apologize to the young lady and stand treat for the crowd, with the understanding that his next crime shall be visited with condign punishment?"

"Do you propose to let him off?" demanded the wrathful chairman.

"Yes; for this once, but never again."

"I'll never consent to anything of the kind! The dignity of the Court must be preserved; the law must be executed, and any man who says 'devil' or 'thunder' in the presence of the little gal, I don't care what the circ.u.mstances, orter to be shot, so that there wont be any delay in his going to the devil, where he belongs."

"_O, Mr. Ruggles, I heard you_!"

A little figure dressed in white stood at the door leading to the rear room, and the startled auditors turning their heads, saw Nellie Dawson, with her chubby finger pointed reprovingly at the dumbfounded chairman.

CHAPTER IV

SUITING THE PUNISHMENT TO THE CRIME

Wade Ruggles was speechless. He sat with his mouth wide open and his eyes staring at the little figure, as if it were a veritable apparition. All the others looked in the same direction. Nellie Dawson stood for a moment with her finger pointed reprovingly at the chairman, and then turning about ran back into the rear room and plunged into her bed.

"Max, quick!" said Ruggles faintly, pointing to the black bottle at the rear of the bar. The landlord hastily poured out some of the fiery stuff, and the miserable fellow swallowed it at a gulp. It served partly to revive him, but he was really on the verge of collapse.

The only one of the company not impressed was Maurice Dawson, father of the little girl. He was sitting well back of the rest, where no one paid attention to him. Comprehending the meaning of this incident, he drew his hand across his mouth to conceal the smile that could not be wholly restrained. Then he hurried back into the room to see that his child was "tucked up" and properly covered for the night. Finding himself in the dark, where he could not be observed, he laughed deeply and silently, his mirth all the greater because of the oppressive gravity of every one else. Then bending over, he said, as he kissed the little one: