“Lizardly speaking, it is Gila monstrous.”
Then Scenery cackles and I went loco. I hate to hear men cackle,
especially when they cackle in E-string voices. It sort of sends a
message to my trigger finger and I seems to lose sight of the tender
things of life. I never was a wizard on pulling a gun. I sets by and
watches other fellers practise the swift draw and most of them are
gone hence, but there comes a time in every man’s life when he
forgets that he’s leisurely with a gun. I forgot.
It was all done fairly quick. I got my hand as far as the butt of that
gun and then something seems to explode in my head. When my nervous
system gets back to the straight and narrow way, I’m on the floor and
beside me with the handle busted off is that danged heavy sirup pitcher.
I’ve got a pinnacle swelled up over my right eye which matches the one
over the left, and my ears are full of molasses.
I staggered over to the door, but she’s locked on the outside. On the
door is a notice which reads:
HAVE WENT TO SAVE THE LEGION.
STAY WHERE YOU ARE--AND PRAY.
“For the soul of the man who hit me twice in the same day with a sirup
pitcher,” says I.
After while somebody unbolts the door and Doughgod Smith sticks his head
inside.
“You sure look like a changed man, Ike,” says he, peering at me. “You
look meek and mild.”
“My looks are liars, ’cause I’m feeling like a killer, Doughgod.”
“Different here. I’ve been shot at until I can’t walk slow. I want to
resign, but nobody will stand still long enough to accept it.”
“You need a deputy.”
“Aw-w-w-w, I don’t need help! I need relief. I’d kiss any man who would
take this job off my hands.”
“I’ll take the job, Doughgod, but not the kiss,” says I.
“Hold up your right hand and be swore!” he gasps.
“Give me that star! What’s an oath between friends?”
“You’ve got to admit to the ‘So help you Gawd,’ Ike.”
“I’ll admit that much, but I’m going to place a lot of confidence in my
old .44.”
I got the star and went towards town. It’s getting dark but I’m aiming
to get close before I shoot. I finds Dirty Shirt setting in front of
Buck’s place, which is dark. The Mint Hall seems to be the only lighted
place in town.
“I came back for medical advice, but I can’t find the horse doctor,”
says Dirty. “I never missed that bell three times in a row before.”
“Come and help me kill Scenery Sims and Magpie,” says I. “I’m sure going
to assassinate them two, Dirty.”
“All right, Ike. I ain’t heard such good news since Dewey whipped the
Italians at Rhode Island.”
Bill Thatcher tried to stop us at the door.
“What is the password?” he asks.