160
"'Wrong?' the Bug repeats, mighty indignant.
"'Of course,' says Monte, rememberin' how easy heated the Bug is, an' that he looks on six-shooters as argyooments, 'I don't mean he can't talk none; only he ain't what the Doc yere calls no Demosthenes.'
"'Did you ever hear the Jedge talk?' demands the Bug.
"'Which I shore does,' insists Monte; 'I listens to him for two hours that time in Tucson. It's when they opens the Broadway Dance Hall.'
"'Whatever is his subject?' asks the Bug, layin' for to ketch Monte; 'what's the Jedge talkin' about?'
"'I don't know,' says Monte, wropped in his usual mantle of whiskey-soaked innocence; 'he didn't say.'
"The Bug's eyes comes together in a angry focus; he thinks he's bein' made game of.
"Tharupon Enright cuts in.
"'Bug,' he says, all sociable an' suave, 'you mustn't mind Monte. He's so misconstructed that followin' the twenty-fifth drink he goes about takin' his ignorance for information.161No one doubts but you're a heap better jedge than him of eloquence, an' everything else except nosepaint. S'ppose you consider yourse'f a committee to act for the con'jint camps, an' invite this yere joorist to be present as orator of the day.'
"The Bug's brow cl'ars at this, an' he asshores Enright that he'll be proud to act as sech.
"'An', gents,' he adds, 'if you says he ain't got Patrick Henry beat to a standstill, may I never hold as good as aces-up ag'in.'
"The Red Dog chief announces that all hands must attend a free-for-all banquet which, inflooenced by the tenth drink, he then an' thar decides to give at Bland's Abe Lincoln House.
"'Said banquet,' he explains, 'bein' in the nacher of a lunch to be held at high noon. If the dinin' room of the Abe Lincoln House ain't spacious enough, an I'll say right yere it ain't, we'll teetotaciously set them tables in the street. That's my style! I wants everybody, bar Mexicans, to be present. When I gives a blow-out, I goes fo'th into the highways an' byways, an' asks the halt an' the lame an'162the blind, like the good book says. Also, no gent need go prowlin' 'round for no weddin' garments wharin to come. Which he's welcome to show up in goat-skin laiggin's, or appear wropped in the drippin' an' offensive pelt of a wet dog.'
"The Red Dog chief, lest some of us is sens'tive, goes on to add that no gent is to regyard them cracks about the halt an' the lame an' the blind as aimed at Wolfville. He allows he ain't that invidious, an' in what he says is merely out to be both euphonious an' explicit, that a-way, at one an' the same time.
"To which Enright reesponds that no offence is took, an' asshores the Red Dog chief that Wolfville will attend the banquet all spraddled out.
"More licker, followed by gen'ral congratulations.
"Bland ag'in comes surgin' to the fore. This time he thinks that as a main feachure it would be a highly effective racket to reënact the surrender of Cornwallis to Washington.
"Tutt goes weavin' across to shake his hand.
"'Some folks allows, Pete,' says Tutt, 'that163you're as whiskey-soaked an old fool as Monte. But not me, Pete, not your old pard, Dave Tutt! An' you hear me, Pete, that idee about Cornwallis givin' up his sword to Washington dem'nstrates it.'
"'You bet your life it does!' says Bland.
"'But is this yere surrender feasible?' asks Texas. 'Which, at first blink, it seems some cumbrous to me.'
"'It's as easy as turnin' jack,' declar's Tutt, takin' the play away from Bland. 'I've seen it done.'
"'As when an' whar?' puts in Cherokee.
"'Thar's a time,' says Tutt––'it's way back––when I sets into a little poker game over in El Paso, table stakes she is, an' cleans up for about $10,000. For mebby a week I goes 'round thinkin' that $10,000 is a million; an' after that I simplyknowsit is. These yere onnacheral riches onhinges me to a p'int whar I deecides I'll visit Chicago an' Noo York, as calk'lated to broaden me.'
"'Noo York!––Chicago!' interrupts the Bug. 'I once deescends upon them hamlets, an' I encounters this yere strikin' difference. In Chicago they wouldn't let me spend a dollar,164while in Noo York they wouldn't let anybody else spend one.'
"'It's otherwise with me,' goes on Tutt, 'because for a wind-up I don't see neither. I'm young then, d' you see, an' affected by yooth an' wealth I takes to licker, with the result that I goes pervadin' up an' down the train, insistin' on becomin' person'ly known to the passengers.'
"'An' nacherally you gets put off,' says Boggs.
"'Not exactly, neither. Only the conductor, assisted by a bevy of brakemen, lays the thing before me in sech a convincin' shape that I gets off of my own accord. It seems that to be agree'ble, I proposes wedlock to a middle-aged schoolmarm, who allows that she sees no objection except I'm a perfect stranger. She says it ain't been customary with her much to go weddin' strangers that a-way, but if I'll get myse'f reg'larly introdooced, an' then give her a day or so to become used to my looks, she'll go me. It's then the conductor draws me aside, an' says, "I've a son about your age, my eboolient young sport, which is why I takes your part. My theery is that if you165sticks aboard this train ontil we reaches Rock Island, you'll never leave that village a single man."
"'This sobers me,' Tutt continyoos, 'an' I hides in the baggage kyar ontil we reaches a camp called Sedalia, whar I quietly makes my escape. I'm that reelieved I gives the cabman $20 to let me drive, an' then starts in to wake things up. Which I shore wakes 'em! I comes down the main street like the breath of destiny; an', say, you ought to see them Missourians climb trees, an' gen'rally break for cover! It costs me $50; an' the jedge gives me his word that, only it's the Fo'th of Jooly, he'd have handed me two weeks in the calaboose. I clinks down the fiftypesossome grateful, an' goes bulgin' forth to witness the cer'monies. She's a jo-darter, that Sedalia cel'bration is! As Pete yere recommends, they pulls off the surrender of Cornwallis on the Fair grounds. Also, it's plumb easy. All you needs is mebby a couple of hundred folks on hosses, an' after that the rest's like rollin' off a log.'
"More is said as the drink goes round, an' Cornwallis surrenderin' to Washington takes166hold of our imaginations. We throws dice, an' settles it that Red Dog'll be the English, with Bland as Cornwallis, while Wolfville acts as the Americans, Boggs to perform as Washington––Boggs bein' six foot an' some inches, besides as wide as a door. By the time we gets the stock of the Votes for Women S'loon fully drinked up everything's arranged.
"Onless you sees no objections, son, I'll gallop through the balance of this yere painful eepisode. The day comes round, bright an' cl'ar, an' the Copper Queen people gen'rously starts the ball a-rollin' by explodin' thirteen cans of powder, one for each of the orig'nal states. Then the procession forms, Nell in front as the Goddess. Thar's full two hundred of us, Wolfville an' Red Dog, on ponies. As to Missis Rucker, she's on top of the coach as Jestice, Tucson Jennie––with little Enright Peets lookin' like a young he cherub––inside, an' Monte pullin' the reins over the six hosses. We makes four trips between Wolfville an' Red Dog, crackin' off our good old '45s at irreg'lar intervals, Nell on her calico pony as the Goddess bustin' away with the rest.
"Little Enright Peets wants in on the pistol167shootin', an' howls jes' like a coyote––as children will––ontil Boggs, who foresees it an' comes provided, gives him a baby pistol, a box of blank cartridges, an' exhorts him to cut loose. Which little Enright Peets shore cuts loose, all right; an', except that he sets fire to the coach a few times, an' makes Missis Rucker oneasy up on top––her fearin' that mebby some of them blanks has bullets in 'em by mistake––he has a perfectly splendid time.
"The procession over, we eats up the Red Dog chief's banquet, wharat every brand of airtights is introdooced. That done, we listens to Jedge Beebe, who soars an' sails an' sails an' soars, rhetorical, for mebby it's a hour, an' is that eloquent an' elevated he never hits nothin' but the highest places.
"The Red Dog chief makes a speech, an' proposes 'Wolfville'; to which Peets––by Enright's request––reesponds, an' offers 'Red Dog.' It's bottoms up to both sentiments; for thar's no negligence about the drinks, Black Jack havin' capered fraternally over to he'p out his overworked barkeep brother of the Red Dog Tub of Blood.
"When no one wants to further drink or eat168or talk, we reepa'rs to a level place between the two camps to go through the Cornwallis' surrender. The rival forces is arrayed opp'site, Cornwallis Bland in a red coat, an' Washington Boggs in bloo an' buff, accordin' to the teachin's of hist'ry. Both of 'em has sabers donated from the Fort.
"When all's ready Washington Boggs an' Cornwallis Bland rides out in front ontil they're in easy speakin' distance. Cornwallis Bland's been over-drinkin' some, an' is w'arin' a mighty deefiant look.
"After a spell, nothin' bein' spoke on either side, Washington Boggs calls out:
"'Is this yere Gen'ral Cornwallis?'
"'Who you talkin' to?' demands Cornwallis Bland, a heap contemptuous an' insolent.
"Peets has done writ out words for 'em to say, but neither uses 'em. Observin' how Cornwallis Bland conducts himse'f, Washington Boggs waves his sword plenty vehement, which makes his pony cavort an' buckjump, an' roars:
"'Don't you try to play nothin' on me, Gen'ral Cornwallis. Do you or do you not surrender your mis'rable blade?'
169
"'Surrender nothin'!' Cornwallis Bland sneers back, meanwhile reelin' in his saddle. 'Thar's never the horned-toad clanks a spur in Cochise County can make me surrender. Likewise, don't you-all go wavin' that fool weepon at me none. I don't valyoo it more'n if it's a puddin' stick. Which I've got one of 'em myse'f'––yere he'd have lopped off one of his pony's y'ears, only it's so dull––'an' I wouldn't give it to a yellow pup to play with.'
"'For the last time, Cornwallis,' says Washington Boggs, face aflame with rage, 'I commands you to surrender.'
"'Don't let him bluff you, Pete,' yells a bumptious young cow-puncher who belongs on the Red Dog-English side. 'Which we can wipe up the plains with that Wolfville outfit.'
"The Red Dog chief bats the young trouble-makin' cow-puncher over the head with his gun, an' quietly motions to the Lightnin' Bug an' a fellow Red Dog to pack what reemains of him to the r'ar. This done, he turns to reemonstrate with Cornwallis Bland for his obstinancy. He's too late. Washington Boggs, who's stood all he will, drives the spurs into his pony, an' next with a bound an' a rush, he170hits Cornwallis Bland an' his charger full chisle.
"The pony of Cornwallis Bland fa'rly swaps ends with itse'f, an' Cornwallis would have swapped ends with it, too, only Washington Boggs collars an' hefts him out of his saddle.
"'Now, you onwashed drunkard, will you surrender?' roars Washington Boggs, shakin' Cornwallis Bland like a dog does a rat, ontil that British leader drops all of his hardware, incloosive of his pistol––'now will you surrender, or must I break your back across your own pony, as showin' you the error of your ways?'
"It looks like thar's goin' to be a hostile comminglin' of all hands, when––her ha'r streamin' behind her same as if she's a comet––Missis Bland comes chargin' up.
"'Yere, you drunken villyun!' she screams to Boggs, 'give me my husband this instant, onless you wants me to t'ar your eyes out!'
"'It's him who's to blame, ma'am,' says Enright mildly, comin' to Boggs' rescoo; 'which he won't surrender.'
"'Oh, he won't, won't he?' says Missis Bland, as she hooks onto Cornwallis Bland.171'You bet he'll surrender to me all right, or I'll know why.'
"As the Red Dog chief is apol'gizin' to Enright, who's tellin' him not to mind, Cornwallis Bland is bein' half shoved an' half drug, not to mention wholly yanked, towards the Abe Lincoln House by Missis Bland.
"That's the end. This yere ontoward finale to our cel'bration gets wide-flung notice in print, an' instead of bein' a boost, as we-all hopes, Wolfville an' Red Dog becomes a jest an' jeer. Also, while it don't sour the friendly relations of the two camps, the simple mention of Fo'th of Jooly leaves a bitter taste in the Wolfville-Red Dog mouth ever since."
172VIIPROPRIETY PRATT, HYPNOTIST
"Do I ever see any folks get hypnotized? Which I witnesses a few sech instances. But it's usually done with a gun. If you're yearnin' to behold a party go into a trance plumb successful an' abrupt, get the drop on him. Thar ain't one sport in a hundred who can look into the muzzle of a Colt's .45, held by a competent hand, without lapsin' into what Peets calls a 'cataleptic state.'
"Shore, son, I savvys what you means."
The last was because I had begun to exhibit signs of impatience at what I regarded as a too flippant spirit on the part of my old cattleman. In the polite kindliness of his nature he made haste to smooth down my fur.
"To be shore I onderstands you. As to the real thing in hypnotism, however, thar arises as I recalls eevents but few examples in Arizona. The Southwest that a-way ain't the troo field for them hypnotists, the weak-minded173among the pop'lation bein' redooced to minimum. Now an' then of course some hypnotic maverick, who's strayed from the eastern range, takes to trackin' 'round among us sort o' blind an' permiscus. But he never stays long, an' is generally tickled to death when some vig'lance committee so far reelents as to let him escape back.
"Over in Bernilillo once, I'm present when a mob gets its rope onto one of these yere wizards, an' it's nothin' but the mercy of hell an' the mean pars'mony of what outcasts has him in charge, which saves him from bein' swung up. Mind you, it ain't no vig'lance committee, but a mob, that's got him.
"Whatever is the difference?
"Said difference, son, is as a spanless gulf. A vig'lance committee is the coolest kind of comin' together of the integrity an' the brains of a commoonity. A mob, on the other hand, is a chance-blown convention of deestructionists, as savagely brainless as a pack of timber wolves. A vig'lance committee seeks jestice; a mob is merely out for blood."
"About this Bernilillo business?"
The old gentleman, as though the recital174might take some time, signalled the black attendant to bring refreshments. The bottle comfortably at his elbow, he proceeded.
"I was thar, as I says, but I takes no part for either 'yes' or 'no,' bein' no more'n simply a 'looker on in Vienna,' as the actor party observes over in the Bird Cage Op'ry House. Thar's one of them hypnotizin' sharps who's come bulgin' into Bernilillo to give a show. Nacherally the local folks raps for a showdown; they insists he entrance some one they knows, an' refooses to be put off by him hypnotizin' what herd of hirelin's he's brought with him, on the argyooment that them humbugs is in all likelihood but cappers for his game.
"Thus stood up, the professor, as he calls himself, begins rummagin' 'round for a subject. Thar's a little Frenchman who's been pervadin' about Bernilillo, claimin' to be a artist. Which he's shore a painter all right. I sees him myse'f take a bresh an' a batch of colors, an' paint a runnin' iron so it looks so much like wood it floats. Shore; Emil––which this yere genius' name is Emil––as a artist that a-way is as good as jacks-up before the draw.
"The hypnotic professor runs his eye over175the audjence. In a moment he's onto Emil, an' begins to w'irl his hypnotic rope. It's Emil bein' thin an' weakly an' bloodless, I reckon, that attracts him. This yere Emil ain't got bodily stren'th to hold his own ag'in a high wind, an' the professor is on at a glance that, considered from standp'ints of hypnotism, he ought to be a pushover.
"Emil don't hone to be no subject, but them Bernilillo hold-ups snatches onto him in spite of his protests, an' passes him up onto the stage to the professor. They're plenty headlong, not to say boorish, them Bernilillo ruffians be; speshully if they've sot their hearts on anythin', an' pore Emil stands about the same show among 'em as a cottontail rabbit among a passel of owls.
"For myse'f, I allers adheres to a theery that what follows is to be laid primar'ly to the door of the Bernilillo pop'lace. Which it's themselves, not the professor, they'd oughter've strung up. You see this Emil artist person blinks out onder the spells of the professor, an' never does come to no more. The professor hypnotizes Emil, but he can't onhypnotize him. Thar he sets as dead as Davy Crockett.
176
"This yere Emil bein' shore dead, Bernilillo sent'ment begins to churn an' wax active. Thar ain't a well-conditioned vig'lance committee between the Pecos an' the Colorado which, onder the circumstances, would have dreamed of stretchin' that professor. What he does, them Bernilillo dolts forces him to do. As for deceased, his ontimely evaporation that a-way is but the frootes of happenstance.
"What cares the Bernilillo pop'lace, wolf hungry for blood? In the droppin' of a sombrero they've cinched onto the professor, an' the only question left open is whether they'll string him up to the town windmill or the sign in front of the First National Bank.
"While them Bernilillo wolves is howlin' an' mobbin' an' millin' 'round the professor––who himse'f is scared plumb speechless an' is as white as a lump of chalk––relief pushes to the front in most onexpected shape. It's a kyard sharp by the name of Singleton, otherwise called the Planter, who puts himse'f in nom'nation to extricate the professor.
"Climbin' onto the top step in front of the bank, the Planter lifts up his voice for a hearin'.
177
"'Folks!' he shouts, 'I'm in favor of this yere lynchin' like a landslide. But, all the same, thar's a bet we overlooks. It's up to us not only to be jest, but to be gen'rous. This yere murderer, who's done blotted out the only real artist I ever meets except myse'f, has a wife down to the hotel. As incident to these festiv'ties she's goin' to be a widow. Is it for the manhood an' civic virchoo of Bernilillo to leave a widow of its own construction broke an' without a dollar? I hears the incensed echoes from the Black Range roarin' back in scornful accents "No!" Sech bein' the sityooation, as preelim'nary to this yere hangin' I moves we takes up a collection for that widow. Yere's a fifty to 'nitiate the play'––at this p'int the Planter throws a fifty-dollar bill into his hat––'an' as I passes among you I wants every sport to come across, lib'ral an' free, an' prove to the world lookin' on that Bernilillo is the band of onbelted philanthropists which mankind's allers believed.
"Hat in hand, same as if it's a contreebution box an' he's passin' the platter in church, the Planter begins goin' in an' out through the multitood like a meadowlark through standin'178grass. That is, he starts to go in an' out; but, at the first motion, that entire lynchin' party exhales like mist on the mornin' mountains. It's the same as flappin' a blanket at a bunch of cattle. Every profligate of 'em, at the su'gestion he contreebute to the widow, gets stampeded, an' thar's nobody left but the Planter, the professor, an' me.
"'Which I shore knows how to tech them ground-hawgs on the raw,' says the Planter, as he onlooses the professor. 'If I was to have p'inted a gun at 'em now, they'd've give me a battle. But bein' to the last man jack a bunch of onmitigated misers, a threat leveled at their bankrolls sets 'em to hidin' out like quail!'
"The professor?
"The instant he's laig-free, an' without so much as pausin' to congrachoolate his preeserver on the power of his eloquence, he vanishes into the night. He's headin' towards Vegas as he's lost to sight, an' I learns later from Russ Kishler he makes that meetropolis more or less used up. No; he don't have no wife. That flight of fancy is flung off by the Planter simply as furnishin' 'atmosphere.'
"Wolfville never gets honored but once by179the notice of a hypnotist. This yere party don't proclaim himse'f as sech, but bills his little game as that of a 'magnetic healer,' an' allows in words a foot high that he's out to 'make the deef hear, the blind see, the lame to walk an' the halt to skip an' gambol as doth the hillside lamb.' Also, on them notices, the same bein' the bigness of a hoss-blanket an' hung up lib'ral in the Red Light, the post office, the Dance Hall, an' the Noo York store, is a picture of old Satan himse'f, teachin' Professor Propriety Pratt––that bein' the name this yere neecromancer gives himse'f––his trade.
"These proclamations is tacked up a full week before Professor Pratt is doo, an' prodooces a profound effect on Boggs, him bein' by nacher sooperstitious to the brink of the egreegious. The evenin' before the Professor is to onlimber on us, he shows in Red Dog, an' Boggs is that roused by what's been promised in the line of mir'cles, he rides across to be present.
"'It ain't that I'm convinced none,' Boggs reports, when quaffin' his Old Jordan in the Red Light, an' settin' fo'th what he sees, 'but I must confess to bein' more or less onhossed180by what this yere Pratt Professor does. He don't magnetize none of them Red Dog drunkards in person, for which he's to be exon'rated, since no self-respectin' magnetizer would let himse'f get tangled up with sech. He confines his exploits to a brace of dreamy lookin' ground owls he totes 'round with him, an' which he calls his "hosses." What he makes these vagrants do, though, assoomin' it's on the squar', is a caution to bull-snakes. After he's got 'em onder the "inflooence," they eats raw potatoes like they're roast apples, sticks needles into themselves same as though they're pincushions, an' at his slightest behest performs other feats both blood-curdlin' an' myster'ous.'
"We-all listens to Boggs, of course, as he recounts what marvels he's gone ag'inst in Red Dog, but we don't yield him as much attention as we otherwise might, bein' preeockepied as a public with word of a hold-up that's come off over near the Whetstone Springs. Some bandit––all alone––sticks up the Lordsburg coach, an' quits winner sixty thousand dollars. Nacherally our cur'osity is a heap stirred up, for with sech encouragement thar's no tellin' when he'll make a play at Monte an' the Wolfville181stage, an' take to layin' waste the fortunes of all us gents. What is done to Lordsburg we can stand, but a blow at our own warbags, even in antic'pation, is calc'lated to cause us to perk up. We're all discussin' the doin's of this yere route agent an' wonderin' if it's Curly Bill, when Boggs gets back from Red Dog, with the result, as I says, that he onloads his findin's, that a-way, on a dead kyard. Not that this yere public inattention preys on Boggs. He keeps on drinkin' an' talkin', same as though, all y'ears like a field of wheat, we ain't doin' a thing but listen.
"'Also,' he observes, as he tells Black Jack to rebusy himse'f, meanwhile p'intin' up to the poster which shows how the devil is holdin' Professor Pratt in his lap an' laborin' for that hypnotist's instruction; 'I shall think out a few tests which oughter get the measure of that mountebank. He won't find this outfit so easy as them Red Dog boneheads.'
"Professor Pratt has a one-day wait in Wolfville, not bein' able that evenin' to get the Bird Cage Op'ry House, the same bein' engaged by a company of histrions called the Red Stocking Blonds. Havin' nothin' else to do,182the Professor wanders yere an' thar, now in the Red Light, now at the Noo York store, but showin' up at the O. K. Restauraw at chuck time both rav'nous an' reg'lar. Missis Rucker allows she never does feed a gent who puts himse'f outside of so much grub for the money, an' hazards the belief it's because of a loss of nervous force through them hypnotizin's he pulls off. Not that she's findin' fault, for the Professor, havin' staked her to a free ticket, has her on his staff in the shakin' of a dice-box.
"The Professor don't come bulgin' among us, garroolous an' friendly, but holds himse'f aloof a heap, clingin' to the feelin' mebby that to preeserve a distance is likely to swell reesults at the Bird Cage door. Boggs, however, ain't to be stood off by no coldness, carin' no more for a gent's bein' haughty that a-way than a cow does for a cobweb. Which you bet it'll take somethin' more'n mere airs to hold Boggs in check.
"It's in the O. K. Restauraw, followin' our evenin'frijoles, that Boggs breaks the ice an' declar's for some exper'ments.
"'Which you claims,' says he, appealin' to the Professor, 'to make the deef hear and the183blind see. Onforchoonately we're out of deef folks at this writin', an' thar's nothin' approachin' blindness in this neck of woods which don't arise from licker. But aside from cures thus rendered impossible for want of el'gible invalids, thar's still this yere hypnotic bluff you puts up. What Wolfville hankers for is tests, tests about the legit'macy of which thar's no openin' for dispoote. Wharfore I yereby makes offer of myse'f to become your onmurmurin' dupe. I'll gamble you a stack of bloos you don't make me drink no water, thinkin' it's nosepaint, same as you pretends to do with them wretched confed'rates of yours.'
"The Professor is a big b'ar-built sport, an' looks equal to holdin' his own onder common conditions. But Boggs don't come onder the latter head. So the Professor, turnin' diplomatic an' compliment'ry, explains that sech powerful nachers as Boggs' is out of reach of his rope––Boggs bein' reepellent, besides havin' too strong a will.
"'As to you, Mister Boggs, with that will of yours,' says the Professor, 'I might as well talk of hypnotizin' Cook's Peak.'
"One after another, Boggs makes parade of184everybody in camp. It's no go; the Professor waves 'em aside as plumb onfit. Missis Rucker's got too much on her mind; in Rucker the tides of manhood is at so low a ebb he might die onder the pressure; Monte's too full of nosepaint, alcohol, that a-way, bein' a nonconductor.
"When the Professor dismisses Monte, the ground he puts it on excites that inebriate to whar it reequires the united energies of Cherokee an' Tutt to kick him off the Professor. It's only the direct commands of Enright which in the end indooces him to keep the peace.
"'Let me at him!' he howls; 'let me get at him! Does any one figger I'll allow some fly-by-night charl'tan to go reeflectin' on me? Stand back, Cherokee, get out o' the way, Dave, till I plaster the wall with his reemains!'
"'Ca'm yourse'f, Monte,' says Enright, who's come in in time to onderstand the trouble. 'Which if this hypnotizer was reely meanin' to outrage your feelin's, it'd be different a whole lot, an' this sod-pawin' an' horn-tossin' might plead some jestification. But what he says is in the way of scientific exposition, an'185nothin' said scientific's to be took insultin'. Ain't that your view, Doc?'
"'Shore,' replies Peets. The Doc's been havin' no part in the discussion, him holdin' that the Professor, with his rannikaboo bluff about healin', is a empirik, an' beneath his professional contempt. 'Shore. Also, I'm free to inform Monte that if he thinks he's goin' to lap up red licker to the degree he does, an' obleege folks in gen'ral to treat sech consumption as a secret, he's got his stack down wrong.'
"'Enough said,' ejacyoolates Monte, but still warm; 'whether or no, Doc, I'm the sot this outfit's so fond of picturin', I at least ain't so lost to reason as to go buckin' ag'inst you an' Enright. Jest the same, though, I'm yere to give the news to any magnetizing horned-toad who sows the seeds of dispoote in this camp that, if he goes about malignin' me, he'll shore find I'm preecisely the orange-hued chimpanzee to wrop my prehensile tail around him an' yank him from his limb.'
"'Aside from aidin' the deef an' the blind,' says the Professor, ignorin' Monte utter an'186addressin' himse'f to Boggs an' the public gen'ral, 'my ministrations has been found eff'cacious wharever the course of troo love has not run smooth. I binds up wounds of sent'ment, an' cures every sickness of the soul. Which, if thar's any heart lyin' 'round loose yereabouts an' failin' to beat as one, or a sperit that's been disyoonited from its mate an' can't remake the hook-up, trust me to get thar with bells on in remedyin' sech evils.'
"The Professor beams as he gets this off, mighty benignant. Texas, feelin' like the common eye is on him, commences to grow restless.
"'Be you-all alloodin' to me?' he asks the Professor, his manner approaching the petyoolant. 'Let me give you warnin', an' all on the principle that a wink is as good as a nod to a blind mule. So shore as you go to makin' any plays to reyoonite me an' that divorced Laredo wife of mine I'll c'llect enough of your hypnotizin' hide to make a saddle-cover.'
"'Permit me,' says the Professor, turnin' to Texas some aghast, 'to give you my word I nourishes no sech deesigns. Which I'm driven to say, however, that your attitoode is as hard187to fathom as a fifth ace in a poker deck. I in no wise onderstands your drift.'
"'You onderstands at least,' returns Texas, still morbid an' f'rocious, 'that you or any other fortune teller might better have been born a Digger Injun to live on lizards, sage bresh an' grasshoppers than come messin' 'round in my mar'tal affairs with a view to reebuildin' 'em up. My hopes in that behalf is rooined; an' whoever ondertakes their rehabil'tation'll do it in the smoke. What I'm out after now is the ca'm onbroken misery of a single life, an' I'll shore have it or have war.'
"'My heated friend, I harbors no notion,' the Professor protests, 'of tryin' to make it otherwise. Your romancin' 'round single, that a-way, ain't no skin off my nose. An' while I never before hears of your former bride, I'm onable to dodge the feelin' that she herse'f most likely might reesent to the utmost any attempt on my part to ag'in bring you an' her together.'
"Texas formyoolates no express reply, but growls. The Professor, still with that propitiatin' front, appeals to the rest of us.
"'Gents,' he says, 'this yere's the most reesentful188outfit I'm ever inveigled into tryin' to give a show to. I certainly has no thought of rubbin' wrong-ways the pop'lar bristles. All I aims at is to give a exhibition of anamile magnetism, cure what halt an' blind––if any––is cripplin' an' moonin' about, c'llect mydineroan' peacefully hit the trail. An' yet it looks like a prejewdice exists ag'inst me yere.'
"'Put a leetle pressure on the curb, thar,' interrupts Peets. 'You're up ag'inst no prejewdice. On that bill, wharwith you've done defaced the Wolfville walls, you makes sundry claims. An' now you r'ars back on your ha'nches, preetendin' to feel plumb illyoosed, because some one seeks to put the acid on 'em.'
"'That's whatever!' adds Boggs; 'the Doc states my p'sition equilaterally exact. I sees your Red Dog show. I'll be present a whole lot at your show to-morry night. Also, I feels the need of gyardin' ag'inst my own credoolity. What I sees you do in Red Dog, while not convincin', throws me miles into the oncertain air; an' I don't figger on lettin' youvamoos, leavin' me in no sech a onsettled frame. Wharfore, I deemands tests.'
"'Yere,' breaks in Nell, who's been listenin',189'what's the matter of this occult party hypnotizin' me.'
"'The odd kyard in that deck,' says Cherokee, his manner trenchin' on the baleful––'the odd kyard in that deck is that onless this yere occultist is cap'ble of mesmerizin' a bowie to whar it looses both p'int an' edge, for him to go weavin' his wiles an' guiles 'round you, Nellie, would mark the evenin' of his c'reer.'
"Nell beams an' brightens at these yere proofs of Cherokee's int'rest, while the pore Professor looks as deeply disheveled mental as he does when Texas goes soarin' aloft.
"Little Enright Peets waddles up to tell his paw that Tucson Jennie wants him. As he comes teeterin' along on his short cub-b'ar laigs, fat an' 'round as forty pigs, the Professor––thinkin' it'll mebby relieve the sityooation––stoops down to be pleasant to little Enright Peets.
"'Yere's my little friend!' he says, at the same time holdin' out his hands.
"Later we-all feels some ashamed of the excitement we displays. But the trooth is, the Professor offerin' to caress little Enright Peets that a-way sends us plumb off our feet. I190never before witnesses any sech display of force. Every gent starts for'ard, an' some has pulled their guns.
"'Paws off!' roars Enright to the pore dazed Professor, who comes mighty clost to rottin' down right thar; 'in view of them announcements'––yere Enright p'ints to the bill, whar Satan an' the Professor is deepicted as teacher an' poopil––'do you-all reckon we lets sech a devil's baby as you go manhandlin' that child?'
"The Professor throws up his hands like he's growing desp'rate.
"'Folks,' he says, 'I asks, in all hoomility, is thar anythin' I can say or do in this yere camp without throwing away my life?'
"'Shore,' returns Boggs; 'all you got to do is give a deemonstration.'
"'However be I goin' to give a hypnotic deemonstration,' returns the Professor, apparently on the verge of nervous breakdown, 'when every possible subject is either too preeokyoopied, or too obstinate, or too weak, or too yoothful, or too beautiful, or too drunk? If it's healin' you're after, bring fo'th the sickest you've got. If he's blind an' his eye ain't gouged plumb out, I'll make him see; if he's191lame an' his laig ain't cut plumb off, I'll make him walk. An' now, gents, I'm through. If these yere proffers don't suit, proceed with my bootchery. I care less, since one day with you-all exactin' tarrapins has rendered life so distasteful to me that I wouldn't turn hand or head to live.'
"Havin' got this off his mind, the harassed Professor sets down an' buries his face in his hands.
"'Why not introdooce him,' breaks in Rucker, who's nosin' about, 'to that aflickted shorthorn who comes groanin' in on the stage last night? He's been quiled up in his blankets with the rhoomatism ever since he hits camp. Which if this yere imposter can make him walk, it'll shore be kings-up with Missis Rucker, 'cause she wants to make the bed.'
"'Whar's this sufferer at?' demands Boggs, takin' the Professor by the sleeve an' with the same motion pullin' his six-shooter. 'This yere discussion's done reached the mark whar it's goin' to be a case of kill or cure for some sport.'
"Rucker leads the way up sta'rs, Boggs an' the Professor next, the rest trailin'. All hands crowds into the little dark bedroom. Thar192on the bed, clewed up into a knot, lies the rhoomatic party. As we-all files in, he draws himse'f onder the blankets ontil nothin' but his nose sticks out.
"'Professor,' says Boggs, an' his six-shooter goes 'kluck! kluck!' mighty menacin', 'onfurl your game! I shore trusts that you ain't started nothin' you can't stop.'
"The pore Professor don't nurse no doubts. He thinks he's in the bubblin' midst of blood an' sudden death; wharfore, you bet, he throws plenty of sperit into his racket. Makin' some hostile moves with his hands––Boggs elevatin' his gun, not bein' quite content about them motions––the Professor yells:
"'Get up!'
"Talk of mir'cals! Which you should have seen that rhoomatic! With one turrific squawk he lands on his knees at the feet of Boggs, beggin' for mercy.
"'Don't kill me,' he cries; 'I'll show you whar I plants the money.'
"Whoever is that rhoomatic? Which he's the stoodent who stands up the stage over by Whetstone Springs. His rhoomatism's merely that malefactor's way of goin' onder cover.
193
"The Professor later offers to divide with Boggs on the two thousand-dollar reward the Wells-Fargo folks pays, but Boggs shakes his head.
"'You take the entire wad, Professor,' says he, wavin' aside that gen'rous necromancer. 'It's the trophy of your own hypnotic bow an' spear. What share is borne by my .45 is incidental. Which I'll say, too, that if I was playin' your hand I'd spread that cure on my posters as the star mir'cle of my c'reer.'"
194VIIITHAT TURNER PERSON
"Talk of your hooman storm-centers an' nacheral born hubs of grief," observed the old cattleman, reminiscently; "I'm yere to back that Turner person ag'inst all competitors. Not but what once we're onto his angles, he sort o' oozes into our regyards. His baptismal name is 'Lafe,' but he never does deerive no ben'fit tharfrom among us, him behavin' that eegregious from the jump, he's allers referred to as 'that Turner person.'
"As evincin' how swift flows the turbid currents of his destinies, he succeeds in focusin' the gen'ral gaze upon him before he's been in camp a day. Likewise, it's jest as well Missis Rucker herse'f ain't present none in person at the time, or mighty likely he'd have focused all the crockery on the table upon him, which you can bet your lastpesowouldn't have proved no desid'ratum. For while Missis Rucker ain't what I calls onusual peevish, for195a lady to set thar quiet an' be p'inted to by some onlicensed boarder as a Borgia, that away, would be more'n female flesh an' blood can b'ar.
"It's like this. The Turner person comes pushin' his way into the O. K. Restauraw along with the balance of the common herd, an' pulls a cha'r up ag'inst the viands with all the confidence of a oldest inhab'tant. After grinnin' up an' down the table as affable as a wet dog, he ropes onto a can of airtights, the same bein' peaches. He he'ps himse'f plenty copious an' starts to mowin' 'em away.
"None of us is noticin' partic'lar, bein' engaged on our own hook reachin' for things, when of a sudden he cuts loose a screech which would have knocked a bobcat speechless.
"'I'm p'isened!' he yells; 'I'm as good as dead right now!'
"Followin' this yere fulm'nation, he takes to dancin' stiff-laiged, meanwhile clutchin' hold of the buckle on his belt.
"Thar should be no dissentin' voice when I states that, at a crisis when some locoed maverick stampedes a entire dinin' room by allowin'196he's been p'isened, prompt action should be took. Wharfore it excites no s'rprise when Jack Moore, to whom as kettle-tender for the Stranglers all cases of voylance isex officioput up, capchers the ghost-dancin' Turner person by the collar.
"'Whatever's the meanin' of this midprandial excitement?' demands Jack. 'Which if these is your manners in a dinin' room, I'd shore admire to see you once in church.'
"'I'm p'isened!' howls the Turner person, p'intin' at the airtights. 'It's ptomaines! I'm a gone fawnskin! Ptomaines is a center shot!'
"None of us holds Rucker overhigh, an' yet we jestifies that husband's action. Rucker's headin' in from the kitchen, bearin' aloft a platter of ham an' cabbage. He arrives in time to gather in the Turner person's bluff about 'ptomaines,' an' onderstands he's claimin' to be p'isened. Shore, Rucker don't know what ptomaines is, but what then? No more does the rest of us, onless it's Peets, an' he's over to Tucson. As I freequently remarks, the Doc is the best eddicated sharp in Arizona, an' even 'ptomaines' ain't got nothin' on him.
197
"Rucker plants the platter of ham an' cabbage on the table, an' appeals 'round to us.
"'Gents,' he says, 'am I to stand mootely by an' see this tavern, the best j'int ondoubted in Arizona, insulted?' An' with that he's down on the Turner person like a fallin' tree, whar that crazy-hoss individyooal stands jumpin' an' dancin' in the hands of Moore.
"'What's these yere slanders,' shouts Rucker, 'you-all is levelin' at my wife's hotel? Yere we be, feedin' you on the fat of the land; an' the form your gratitoode takes is to go givin' it out broadcast you're p'isened! You pull your freight,' he concloodes, as he wrastles the dancin' Turner person to the door, 'an' if you-all ever shows your villifyin' nose inside this hostelry ag'in I'll fill you full of buckshot.'
"To be shore, that crack about buckshot ain't nothin' more'n vain hyperbole, Rucker not possessin' the spunk of bull-snakes. The Turner person, however, lets him get away with it, an' submits tamely to be buffaloed, which of itse'f shows he ain't got the heart of a horned toad. The eepisode does Rucker a heap of good, though, an' he puffs up immoderate.198Given any party he can buffalo, an' the way that weak-minded married man expands his chest, an' takes to struttin', is a caution to cock partridges. An' all the time, a jack-rabbit, of ordinary resolootion an' force of character, would make Rucker take to a tree or go into a hole.
"Is the Turner person p'isened?
"No more'n I be. Which it's simple that alarmist's heated imagination, aggravated by what deloosions is born of the nosepaint he gets in Red Dog before ever he makes his Wolfville deboo at all. Two hookers of Old Jordan from Black Jack renders him so plumb well he's reedic'lous.
"Most likely you-all'd go thinkin' now that, havin' let sech a hooman failure as Rucker put it all over him, this Turner person'd lie dormant a spell, an' give his se'f-respect a chance to ketch its breath. Not him. It's no longer away than second drink time the same evenin' when he locks gratooitous horns with Black Jack. To this last embroglio thar is––an' could be––no deefense, Jack bein' so amiable that havin' trouble with him is like goin' to the floor with your own image in the glass.199Which he's shorely a long sufferin' barkeep, Jack is. Mebby it's his genius for forbearance, that a-way, which loores this Turner person into attemptin' them outrages on his sens'bilities.
"The Turner person stands at the bar, sloppin' out the legit'mate forty drops. With nothin' said or done to stir him up, he cocks his eye at Jack––for all the world like a crow peerin into a bottle––an' says,
"'Which your feachers is displeasin' to me, an' I don't like your looks.'
"Jack keeps on swabbin' off the bar for a spell, an' all as mild as the month of May.
"'Is that remark to be took sarkastic?' he asks at last, 'or shall we call it nothin' more'n a brainless effort to be funny?'
"'None whatever!' retorts the Turner person; 'that observation's made in a serious mood. Your countenance is ondoubted the facial failure of the age, an' I requests that you turn it the other way while I drinks.'
"Not bein' otherwise engaged at the moment, an' havin' time at his command, Jack repairs from behind the bar, an' seizes the Turner person by the y'ear.