"'As a troo Southern yooth, who feels for his strugglin' country, I loathes them Yankees to the limit, an' has no more use for 'em than Huggins has for a temp'rance lecturer.

"'One day a troop of reb cavalry jumps into the village, an'

stampedes these yere invaders plumb off the scene. We gets the news up to the school, an' adjourns in a bunch to come down town an'

cel'brate the success of the Southern arms. As I arrives at the field of carnage, a reb cavalryman is swingin' outen the saddle. He throws the bridle of his hoss to me.

"'" See yere, Bud," he says, "hold my hoss a minute while I sees if I can't burn this stockade."

"'I stands thar while the reb fusses away with some pine splinters an' lightwood, strugglin' to inaug'rate a holycaust. He can't make the landin'; them timbers is too green, that a-way.

"'While I'm standin' thar, lendin' myse'f to this yere conflagratory enterprise, I happens to cast my eyes over on the hills a mile back from the village, an' I'm shocked a whole lot to observe them eminences an' summits is bloo with Yankees comin'. Now I'm a mighty careful boy, an' I don't allow none to let a ragin' clanjamfrey of them Lincoln hirelings caper up on me while I'm holdin' a reb boss.

So I calls to this yere incendiary trooper where he's blowin' an'

experimentin' an' still failin' with them flames.

"'" Secesh!" I shouts; "oh, you-all secesh! You'd a mighty sight better come get your hoss, or them Yanks who's bulgin' along over yonder'll spread your hide on the fence."

"'This reb takes a look at the Yanks, an' then comes an' gets his hoss. As he gathers up the bridle rein an' swings into the saddle, a mad thirst to fight, die an' bleed for my country seizes me, an' I grabs the reb's hoss by the bits an' detains him.

"'"Say, Mister," I pleads, "why can't you-all take me with you?"

"'" Which you're a lot too young, son," says the reb, takin' another size-up of the Yanks.

"'" I ain't so young as I looks," I argues; "I'm jest small of my age."

"'" Now, I reckons that's so," says the reb, beamin' on me approvin', "an' you're likewise mighty peart. But I'll tell you, Bud, you ain't got no hoss."

"'"That's nothin'," I responds; "which if you-all will only get me a gun, I can steal a hoss, that a-way, in the first mile."

"'Seein' me so ready with them argyments, an' so dead pertinacious to go, this yere trooper begins to act oneasy, like his resolootion gets shook some. At last he gridds his teeth together like his mind's made up.

"'" Look yere, boy," he says, "do you know who our Gen'ral is?"

"'"No," I says, "I don't."

"'"Well," says the reb, as he shoves his feet deep in the stirrups, an' settles in his saddle like he's goin' to make some time; "well, he's a ragin' an' onfettered maverick, named Wheeler; an' from the way he goes skallyhootin' 'round, he's goin' to get us all killed or captured before ever we gets back, an' I don't want no chil'en on my hands." "'With that this yere soldier yanks the bridle outen my grasp, claps the steel into his hoss's flanks, an' leaves me like a bullet from a gun. For my part, I stands thar saved; saved, as I says, by that Gen'ral Wheeler's repootation with his men.'"

CHAPTER XVII.

Old Man Enright's Love.

"Son, I'm gettin' plumb alarmed about myse'f," observed the Old Cattleman, as we drew together for our usual talk. "I've been sort o' cog'tatin' tharof, an' I begins to allow I'm a mighty sight too garrulous that a-way. This yere conversation habit is sh.o.r.e growin'

on me, an', if I don't watch out, I'm goin' to be a bigger talker than old Vance Groggins,"

"Was Groggins a great conversationist?" I asked.

"Does this yere Vance Groggins converse? Which I wish I has stored by a pint of licker for everythin' Vance says! It would be a long spell before ever I'm driven to go ransackin' 'round to find one of them life-savin' stations, called by common consent, a 's'loon!'

This Vance don't do nothin' but talk; he's got that much to say, it gets in his way. Vance comes mighty clost to gettin' a heap the worst of it once merely on account of them powers of commoonication.

"You see, this yere Vance is a broke-down sport, an' is dealin'

faro-bank for Jess Jenkins over on the Canadian. An' Vance jest can't resist takin' part in every conversation that's started. Let two gents across the layout go to exchangin' views, or swappin'

observations, an' you can gamble that Vance comes jimmin' along in.

An' Vance is allers tellin' about his brother Abe. Does a gent mention that he brands eight hundred calves that spring round-up, Vance cuts in with the bluff that his brother Abe brands twelve hundred; does a sport su'gest that he sees a party win four thousand dollars ag'in monte or roulette or faro or some sech amoos.e.m.e.nt, Vance gets thar prompt with some ranikaboo relations of a time when his brother Abe goes ag'inst Whitey Bob at Wichita, makes a killin'

of over sixty thousand dollars, an' breaks the bank.

"'My brother Abe,' says this yere scand'lous Vance that a-way, 'jest nacherally wins the kyarpets off Whitey Bob's floor.'

"Son, it's simple egreegious the way this Vance carries on in them fool rev'lations touchin' his brother Abe.

"It gets so, final, that a pa.s.sel of sports lodges complaints with Jenkins. 'What's the use!' says them maddened sports to Jenkins.

'This Vance don't deal faro-bank; he jest don't do nothin' but talk.

Thar we sets, our bets on the layout, an' we don't get no action.

This Vance won't deal a kyard for fear we don't hear about that brother Abe Groggins of his'n.'

"Them criticisms makes Jenkins plenty quer'lous. He rounds Vance up an' curries him a whole lot. Then he tells Vance to pull his freight; he don't want him to deal faro-bank for him no more.

"At this, Vance turns plumb piteous, an' asks Jenkins not to throw him loose, that a-way. An' he promises to re-organize an' alter his system. 'I knows my failin's,' says Vance a heap mournful. 'You don't have to come 'round tauntin' me with 'em; I'm dead onto 'em myse'f. I'm too frank an' I'm too sociable; I'm too p.r.o.ne to regale my fellow gents with leafs from my experience; an' I realize, as well as you do, Jenk, it's wrong. Sh.o.r.ely, I've no right to stop in the middle of a deal to tell a story an' force the hopes an' fears, not to say the fortunes, of a half-dozen intense sports, an' some of 'em in the hole at that, to wait till I gets through! I know it ain't right, Jenk; but I promises you, if you'll let me go behind the box ag'in to-night, on the honor of a kyard sharp, you-all will never hear a yelp outen me from soda to hock. An' that's whatever!"

"'It ain't not alone that you talks forever,' remonstrates Jenkins; 'but it's them frightful lies you tells. Which they're enough to onsettle a gent's play, to say nothin' of runnin' the resk of raisin' a hoodoo an' queerin' my bank. But I tries you once more, Vance; only get it straight: So sh.o.r.e as ever you takes to onloadin'

on the company one of them exaggerations about that felon Abe, I won't say "Go," I'll jest onlimber an' burn the moccasins off you with my gun.'

"It's that very night; Vance has been dealin' the game for mighty likely it's three hours, an' no one gets a verbal rise outen him more'n if he's a graven image. Vance is gettin' proud of himse'f, an' Jenkins, who comes prowlin' 'round the game at times, begins to reckon mebby Vance'll do. All goes well ontil a party lets fly some hyperbole about a tavern he strikes in Little Rock, which for size an' extensif characteristics lays over anythin' on earth like a summer's cloud.

"'You thinks so?' says Vance, stoppin' the deal, an' leanin' a elbow on the box, while he goes projectin' towards the countenance of the Little Rock party with the forefinger of his other hand, kind o'

claimin' his attention. 'You thinks so! I allows now you-all reckons that for a hotel, this yere Little Rock edifice is the old he-c.o.o.n!

Let me tell you somethin': My brother Abe goes out to one of them bathin' camps, swept by ocean breezes, on the Pacific slope, an' you should sh.o.r.ely oughter behold the joint he slams up! Pards, thar's more than two thousand rooms in that wickeyup! It's 'leven hundred an' twelve foot high, four thousand two hundred an' fifty-four foot long, an'--' It's here pore Vance catches Jenkins' eye glarin' on him hard an' remorseless--'an' twenty foot wide,' says Vance, a heap hurried, dashin' the kyards outen the box. 'Five lose, jack win,'

concloodes Vance confoosedly, makin' a hasty change of subjects.

"Yes, indeed!" and the old gentleman looked thoughtfully across the lawn as he wound up his tale of the unfortunate Groggins, "Yes, indeed If I keeps on talkin' away, I'll become a laughin'-stock, same as that locoed Vance! Thar's one matter that allers imbues me with a heap of respect for deef an' dumb folks; which they sh.o.r.ely do keep things to themse'fs a whole lot."

It was fifteen minutes before I could convince my friend that his Wolfville stories in no sort diminished his dignity. Also, I reminded him of a promise to one day tell me of Enright's one affair of love; plainly his bond in that should be fulfilled. At last he gave way, and after commanding the coming of a favorite and highly refreshing beverage, held forth as follows:

"It's never been my beliefs," he said, "that Sam Enright would have dipped into them old love concerns of his if he'd been himse'f.

Enright's sick at the time. Sh.o.r.e! he ain't sick to the p'int of bein' down in his blankets, an' is still meanderin' 'round the camp as dooty dictates or his interest calls, but he's plenty ailin' jest the same. Thar's the roodiments of a dispoote between Doc Peets an'

Enright as to why his health that time is boggin' down. Peets puts it up it's a over-accoomulation of alkali; Enright allows it's because he's born so long ago. Peets has his way, however, bein' a scientist that a-way, an' takes possession of the case.

"No, it ain't them maladies that so weakens Enright he lapses into confidences about his early love; but you see, son, Peets stops his nose-paint; won't let him drink so much as a drop; an' bein' cut off short on nourishment like I says, it makes Enright--at least so I allers figgers--some childish an' light-headed. That's right; you remove that good old Valley Tan from the menu of a party who's been adherin' an' referrin' to it year after year for mighty likely all his days, an' it sort o' takes the stiffenin' outen his dignity a lot; he begins to onbend an' wax easy an' confidenshul. Is seems then like he goes about cravin' countenance an' support. An' down onder my belt, it strikes me at the time, an' it sh.o.r.e strikes me yet, that ravishin' the canteen from Enright, nacherally enfeebles him an' sets him to talkin' an tellin' of past days. Oh, he don't keep up this yere onhealthful abstinence forever. Peets declar's Enright removed from danger, an' asks him to drink, himse'f, inside of two weeks.

"'Where a gent,' says Peets, elab'ratin' this yere theery of not drinkin' none, 'has been crookin' his elbow constant, an' then goes wrong, bodily, it's a great play to stop his nose-paint abrupt. It's a shock to him, same as a extra ace in a poker deck; an' when a gent' is ill, shocks is what he needs.'

"'But let me savey about this,' says Dan Boggs, who's allers a heap inquis'tive an' searchin' after knowledge; 'do you-all impose this onwonted sobriety as a penalty, or do you make the play meedic'nal?'

Meedic'nal,' says Peets. 'In extreme cases, sobriety is plenty cooratif.'

"Does Enright bow to Doc Peets' demands about no whiskey that a-way?

Son, Peets is plumb inex'rable about them preescriptions of his. He looks on the mildest argyment ag'in 'em as personal affronts. Peets is the most immov'ble sharp, medical, that ever I crosses up with; an' when it comes to them preescriptions, the recklessest sport in Arizona lays down his hand.