see his way through. As for Rucker, who's waitin' on the table an'
packin' in viands from the kitchen, he takes it as sullen as a
sorehead dog. Personal, I ain't got no use for Rucker; but between
us, Missis Rucker, one way an' another, does certainly oppress him
grievous.
"Before the week is out we knows a lot more about Miss Bark than we
does when she first comes prancin' out upon us from Monte's stage. Not
that thar's aught ag'inst the lady. It's doo to Enright, who begins
recollectin' things.
"'Which I knows her pop,' explains Enright, 'now my mem'ry's assertin'
itse'f, I knows him when he first comes bulgin' into the Pecos Valley,
eighteen years ago. This Original Sin daughter an' her maw don't show
up none till later. Thar's no more innocent form of tenderfoot than
Bark ever comes weavin' into the Southwest. He's that ignorantly
innocent, wild geese is as wise as serpents to him. But he's full of a
painstakin' energy, all the same, an' mighty assidyoous to learn.'
"'Whatever does he turn to?' asks Texas.
"'He hires out to a peach ranch. An' this'll show you how industrious,
that a-way, this Bark tarrapin is. The peach ranch party has a measly
bunch of sheep. He keeps 'em nights in a box-tight board corral, so's
the coyotes can't get to mingle with 'em none. Days he throws 'em
loose to feed. The first evenin' the peach ranch gent tells this yere
Bark to corral the sheep, an' then come in for supper. "An' be shore,"
says the peach ranch party, "you gets 'em all in."
"'An hour goes by, an' the peach ranch party is about through his
feed, when this yere Bark drifts up to the table. His face is flushed,
but he's w'arin' a look of triumph. "I hives 'em," says he, some
exultant; "only one lamb does shore force me to extend myse'f a lot.
I'll gamble I runs a hundred miles before I rounds him up."
"'Next mornin' the peach ranch party goes out to throw loose them
sheep. As he cranes his neck over the corral fence to count the bunch
he's amazed to see a jack-rabbit galumpin' about among 'em. "Gin'ral
Jackson fit the English!" he exclaims; "however does that jack-rabbit
get himse'f mixed in with them sheep?" An' he p'ints it out to Bark.
"'That ontootered person is all astonishment. "Jack-rabbit!" says he.
"Why, I hopes next fall to vote the reepublican ticket an' die
disgraced if I don't put it down for a lamb! That's the anamile which
makes me run my laigs off roundin' of him up!"'
"'Which, as you says, Sam,' reemarks Tutt, signin' up to Black Jack to
set out the bottles, 'in the face of sech a showin' that Bark party
must have been plenty ardent.'
"'I should shore yell!' coincides Boggs.
"'But he learns in time, of course?' questions Nell.
"'Learns, Nellie?' repeats Enright; 'it ain't three years before he
identifies himse'f with the life about him to that degree he bumps off
two kyard sharps who tries to cold-deck him in a poker game, an' finds
besides his steady employment stealin' old John Chisholm's calves,
tharby assistin' in plantin' the toomultous seed of what comes
subsequent to be called the Lincoln County War.'
"'What's the finish of this interestin' crim'nal?' asks Cherokee.
"'Lynched,' returns Enright. 'They puts him over the jump at Seven
Rivers. You see this Rattlesnake--they calls him Rattlesnake Bark in
them later years--is bunked down in one of these yere jim-crow,
barn-board hotels. Thar's a resoundin' form of guest in the adjoinin'
room, snorin' to beat four kings an' a ace. Rattlesnake tries poundin'
on the partition, an' sw'arin' at him, an' callin' him a hoss thief.
It's no avail. The snores of that boarder sounds like sawin' planks,
an' fa'rly rocks the shack--they're that stormy. Final, when
Rattlesnake's burdens gets to be more'n flesh an' blood can b'ar, he
reaches for his .45, an' bombards that sleeper good an' plenty through
the wall. It turns out it's the new jedge. In the mornin', when this
joorist is discovered too dead to skin, the public is that mortified
it takes Rattlesnake out as soon as breakfast's over, an' strings him
to a limb.'
"'Don't this pore Rattlesnake get no hearin'?' asks Nell.
"'You see, Nellie,' Enright explains, 'what with maverickin' the
Chisholm calves, an' a stage or two hold-up which p'ints to him, the
close season's been out as to this Rattlesnake person for mighty like
a year. Not but what he might have made preperations. Thar's a
reeligious party present who asks Rattlesnake if he wants to pray
some. "Which you'll cross the dark river all the easier," expounds the
reeligious gent. But Rattlesnake reefuses his ministrations. "I'm
what I be," he says; "an' as for that dark river you refers to, I
ain't lookin' for no shallow ford."
"'This Rattlesnake,' continyoos Enright, 'is willin' to learn to the
last. It's his way. Spring a new game on him an' he's out instanter
lookin' for information an' advice. That's why he comes on so fast.
Thar bein' nothin' to stand him on for the purpose of bein' lynched,
the Stranglers posed Rattlesnake a-top of a stack of hay, which is
heaped up onder the tree they're yootilizin'. When the lariat is round
his neck, an' he's disposed of the reeligious party who attempts to
turn the business into a pra'r meetin', Rattlesnake looks at the chief
of the committee an' says, "This yere bein' hanged from hay-cocks is
plumb new to me entire, an' tharfore I'm obleeged to ask whether
you-all expects me to jump off or slide?"'
"'Well,' comments Jack Moore, drawin' a deep breath, 'the old
murderer's game--misguided, mebby, but game.'
"'That may be as it may,' observes Boggs, plenty thoughtful, 'but
after all I regyards these yere details which Sam onfurls as chiefly
valyooable as sheddin' a ray on this Miss Bark. On the chance that she
takes after her old man, from now on I'm goin' to walk 'round her like
she's a swamp.'
"It's ten days after Miss Bark hits camp that things begins to focus.
An old Mexican, the color of a blacksmith's apron, an' his wife, who's
the same prosaic tint, comes creakin' along with a six-mule team--two
wagons, lead an' trail--loaded to the gyards with stock an' fixtures.
Said par'fernalia havin' arrived, Miss Bark busts in the door of the
old deserted Lady Gay, an' takes possession. Armstrong, who runs the
Noo York store, is the owner of the Lady Gay, but onder the
circumstances he allows it'd be the act of a barbarian to interfere.
"Besides, the attitoode of the young lady herse'f is plumb discouragin'.
"'I'd shore admire,' she remarks, as, with the aid of her Mexicans,
she goes tossin' things into p'sition, 'to see some male felon try to
run a bluff about him havin' title to this Lady Gay structure, an'
becomin' my landlord. Men have tyrannized a heap too long as it is
over onprotected women, an' thar's one at least who's took in patient
silence all she will.'
"When Miss Bark's organized, she tacks up over the door a sign which
the painter at the stage station preepar's. It reads:
VOTES FOR WOMEN SALOON
"'Only get it straight,' says Miss Bark when she has us close-herded
at chuck time in the dinin' room of the O. K. Restauraw; 'I ain't
openin' this saloon none with a view to sordid gain. I got money
enough right now to buy an' burn this yere deboshed town of Wolfville,
an' then prance over an' purchase an' apply the torch to that equally
abandoned outfit, Red Dog. What I'm reachin' for is the p'litical
uplift of this camp. Recognizin' whiskey as a permanency an' that
saloons has come to stay, I aims to show folks how them reesorts
should be run. I hopes to see the day when every s'loon'll be in the
hands of ladies. For I holds that once woman controls the nosepaint of
the nation the ballot is bound to follow.'
"Once it's started we-all manages to patronize the Votes For Women
S'loon for a average of three drinks a day. Enright advises it as
safer.
"'Otherwise she might resent it,' explains Enright, 'an' armed to the
teeth like she is, an' possessin' them perfervid idees, thar's no
tellin' whar she'd end.'
"None of us feels like hangin' out thar. The atmosphere is too plumb
formal. Besides, this yere Miss Bark has rooles. No kyards is
permitted; an', moreover, you've got to go outdoors to sw'ar. As to
drinks, the soberest among us can't get licker oftener than every
other time, while Monte can't get none at all. That Votes For Women
S'loon, considered as a house of call, is, an' put it mildest,
certainly depressin'.
"When I speaks of us patronizin' Miss Bark for three daily drinks,
that a-way, thar's exceptions. Monte, as I states, is barred by the
lady personal on the grounds of him bein' a slave to drink; while Tutt
is forbid by Tucson Jennie. Tutt chafes some at them mandates of
Jennie's; but bein' keenly alive as to what's comin' to her, as well
as what she's cap'ble of, in her triple role of woman, wife an'
mother, he yields.
"As for Texas, while he subscribes to them three diurnal drinks, he
allers insists that he has company.
"'It's all right,' Texas'd say; 'I ain't intimatin' that this Miss
Bark goes cherishin' designs. But it's my onbreakable roole, since
them divoice experiences, to never enter the presence of onmarried
ladies onless attended by witnesses.'
"Owin' to which, some of us allers trails in along with Texas when he
visits the Votes For Women S'loon. Even when thus protected he
onflaggin'ly confines his observations to 'Licker, Miss, please!' an'
stops thar as dumb as graven images. Once the licker's before him he
heaves it into himse'f same as if it's drugs, an' instantly pulls his
freight a heap speedy, breathin' hard. An' all as scared as a
jack-rabbit that's heard the howl of a wolf.
"Does Miss Bark go proselytin' 'round concernin' them Rights of Women?
Which she shore does! You may say she omits no opportoonity. It's
before Wolfville gets that effete it mixes drinks, an' any one who
knows water from whiskey can 'tend bar. Wharfore, Miss Bark stands
watch an' watch with her old Mexican, Pancho. The times she herse'f is
min'sterin' to our needs she's preachin' Woman Suffrage incessant.
Also, not bein' plumb locoed, we bows in concord tharunto. Enright an'
Peets both concurs that it's the thing to do, an' we does it.
"'Whatever difference does it make?' says Enright; 'the price of
steers remains the same, three-of-a-kind continyoos to beat two pa'r,
thar's still fifty-two kyards in a faro deck, an' every other law of
nacher survives onteched. My notion is to agree with this Miss Bark,
verbal, an' trust to Wolfville's onbeatable luck to pull us through.'
"This counsel sounds good to us, an' we follows it. When Miss Bark
sets forth her woman's rights fulm'nations along with her nosepaint,
we murmurs a hearty assent, an' drinks down both impartial. Boggs,
who's 'motional an' easy worked on, even gets to whar he gives it out
he's actchooally a convert.
"Miss Bark has been on the map for mebby it's a week, then thar occurs
a eeposide which, while it makes no profound impression, deceased
bein' a Mexican, shows she ain't packin' her pap Rattlesnake's old
Colt's .45 in a sperit of facetiousness. It's about third drink time
one evenin' when thar's the dull roar of a gun from over in the Votes
For Women S'loon. When we arrives we finds a dead greaser carelessly
quiled up near the door, an' Miss Bark snappin' the empty shell out of
her six-shooter.
"'He was roode,' is the only explanation she vouchsafes; an' Enright,
after lookin' at Peets a spell, who's lookin' at the ceilin', says
it's s'fficient.
"'Only,' says Enright, when we're all back safe in the Red Light, 'I
sincerely trusts she won't get her hindsights notched up to whar she
takes to bumpin' off _Americanos_. I shore don't know whatever in sech
case we could do, vig'lance committees, in the very essence of their
construction, possessin' no joorisdiction over ladies.'
"'That's right, Sam,' says Peets, plenty grave; 'if it ever gets to
whar this Miss Bark turns her artillery loose on the camp permis'cus
the only hope left would be to adjourn Wolfville _sine die_.'
"Miss Bark, however, never does grow homicidal toward any of us, an'
the only effect of her puttin' that Mexican over is that it inclines
folks gen'ral to step high an' softly on what occasions they're found
plantigradin' about in her s'ciety.
"One week, two weeks, three weeks goes by, an' since a dead Mexican
more or less ain't calc'lated to leave no onefface'ble scars the
incident is all but forgot, when a second uprisin' takes place in the
Votes For Women S'loon. This time it's that sickly curlew-voiced Oscar
who's the shriekin' center of eevents. Most of us is jest filin' out
of the O. K. Restauraw, pickin' our teeth after our matootinal
reepast, when we beholds this yere Oscar boilin' fo'th from the Votes
For Women S'loon, all spraddled out. As he goes t'arin' down the
street Miss Bark seelects a graceful p'sition in the door, an' ca'mly
pumps three loads at him out of her winchester. When I says she pumps
them bullets at Oscar it's to be took conserv'tive; for none of 'em
hits him, but only tosses up the dust about his flyin' feet. At the
last shot Oscar cripples down in a shiverin' heap; an' with that Texas
an' Boggs, not knowin' the extent of his injuries, rolls him onto a
blanket an' packs him to his room over at the O. K. House, so's Peets
can prospect his frame all scientific locatin' the lead.
"Thar bein' no lead, as reelated, Peets reeports final to that
effect.
"'Only,' says Peets, 'he's scared up to sech extents that if our Joan
of Arc had dusted his gaiters with so much as two more bullets he'd
have been beyond medical skill.'
"Followin' the foosilade Miss Bark sends for Enright.
"'It's this way,' she goes on, when Enright arrives. 'That shorthorn
Oscar comes lurchin' in, an' asks for nosepaint. As he stands thar,
puttin' it onder his belt--me meanwhile swabbin' off the bar--he
mentions that his paw's rich, an' his step-maw's jest died, leavin'
him an' his paw alone. Then he calls attention to the presence in camp
of that strayed sky-pilot, who preaches an' passes the hat the other
evenin' over in the wareroom of the Noo York store. It's now, havin'
got the bar tittivated to my taste, I has time to look this Oscar
person's way, an' I finds him gloatin' over me in form an' manner not
to be mistook. "Whatever be you leerin' at?" I deemands, bein' I'm in
no mood for insults. Tharupon, he cuts loose a mouthful of platitoodes
concernin' wedlock, an' about me bein' the soul of his soul. Havin'
stood it a while, an' findin' my forbearance makes him worse, I grabs
my winchester whar it's reposin' ready for eemergincies on the
dripboard, an' you knows the rest.'
"'With your free consent, Miss,' says Enright, 'I'd like to put one
query. Was you aimin' to down, or to simply skeer this Oscar?'
"'I was only skeerin' him up some,' replies Miss Bark coyly. 'W'y, if
I was reely out for his skelp, I'd have shore got it a heap. You can
pin a patch the size of a dollar on that disparin' lover's coat, an'
I'll cut it nine times in ten, offhand, at a hundred yards.'
"'Tests is not reequired,' Enright interposes, plenty hasty; 'it's
part of the organic law of this yere camp that a lady's word, even
about her age, is to be took onchallenged.'
"'Which I'm flattered,' says Miss Bark. 'Now, is thar anything else?'
"'Only this,' returns Enright. 'As long as he gives you cause, an' you
can shoot like you says, why ever don't you down him?'
"'Which I confesses,' says Miss Bark, a blush mantlin' her brow,
'that sech is my orig'nal intentions when I reaches for my weepon. But
jest as I sees that Oscar through the sights it comes upon me that
thar's nothin' in bein' preecip'tate, an' mebby I'd better give myse'f
the needed time to think his offer over.'
"Enright shakes his wisdom-freighted head; when he relates his talk to
Peets, the Doc shakes his head sim'lar in sapient yoonison.
"'Which I'll bet a hatful of yellow chips,' says Boggs, who's stood
listenin', 'ag'inst a handful of whites, that this yere Miss Bark
makes herse'f an' that Oscar shorthorn man an' wife.'
"'Now I wouldn't wonder none,' observes Peets, replyin' to the look in
Enright's eye. 'That shootin' needn't count. A troo affection is
freequent boisterous, that a-way.'
"'An' in case,' says Enright, 'the kyards do fall in favor of
matrimony, it'll most likely be the end of that Votes For Women
S'loon. I begins to see how this yere ongrateful outfit may yet get
deep in debt to that egreegious Oscar.'
"None of us ever says so, but it's the common belief that Texas
connives at this yere threatened Oscar's escape. In any case, the
next mornin' Oscar goes catfoot out of the O. K. House before folks is
up, an' takes to hidin' out. The fact is he's layin' for Monte an' the
stage, about ten mile no'th of camp. Leastwise, he's thar a heap when
Monte comes along, an' deemands that he be took up an' carried to
Tucson.
"It ain't first drink time before this Oscar's missed, an' by second
drink time the news has drifted over to Miss Bark. It's Peets who
informs her, an' he tells us, when reelatin' the incident, that the
way that deeserted lady knits her brow is a caution to philos'phers.
"'So,' she says at last, 'that onmitigated seedoocer thinks to leave
me in this heartless way. He'll find before he's through that it's no
light matter to charm into fervent life a love like mine.'
"'It's the theery, Miss,' says Peets, 'of the best minds in camp that
this Oscar's hit the Tucson trail afoot, with a plan of headin' off
the stage.'
"Ten minutes an' Miss Bark is in the saddle, a lead pony gallopin' by
her side, in hot pursoote of the dir'lect.
"'That lead pony looks om'nous, Doc,' observes Enright, as the two
stands watchin' Miss Bark's departure.
"'It's prov'dential,' remarks Peets, as he heads the procession to the
Red Light, 'that that sky-pilot's aboard the stage. Which he ought to
work in plumb handy.'
"Six hours later Miss Bark comes surgin' in with her Oscar foogitive,
his heels tied onder the belly of the lead hoss. Any one can see by
his benumbed expression that he's a married man. The two heads
straight for the Votes For Women S'loon, an' after boltin' her new
he'pmeet into the back room, Miss Bark takes a peek in the glass, pats
down her ha'r, an' goes behind the bar as yoosual.
"'Yes,' she replies, an' all a heap modest an' artless, as Peets an'
Enright--actin' on behalf of the camp--gyardedly inquires if they're
to offer congratulations, 'I reckon you may. An' the best part is that
my dear Oscar's so plumb ready an' willin'. Which I never knows a
bridegroom, gents, who gets married with so little struggle.'
[Illustration: "IT'S YOU, OSCAR, THAT I WANT," OBSERVES MISS BARK. "I
CONCLOODES, UPON SOBER SECOND THOUGHT, TO ACCEPT YOUR OFFER OF MARRIAGE."
p. 93.]
"'How soon, Missis Freelinghuysen,' says Peets, 'do you-all reckon on
lettin' this Oscar husband out?'
"'Oh,' she returns, 'as soon as ever it's safe. Jest now he's some
onstrung; but in a day or two I figger he'll begin to get reeconciled
to his bliss. An' at that, my main idee in lockin' him up is one of
reeform rather than restraint. Oscar's been over-drinkin' himse'f of
late; an' I aims to get the whiskey out of him, so as I can form some
reas'nable estimate of how much of a husband that a-way I've done
roped up.'
"'Is thar any objections,' asks Enright, 'to our visitin' this modern
pris'ner of Chillon? We binds ourselves to say nothin' that'll fret
him, or set him to beatin' his life out ag'inst the bars.'
"'W'y, shore,' she replies, 'you-all is quite welcome. I only hopes
you'll teach him to look at things in their proper light.'
"'It ain't so much,' says this Oscar husband, when Enright an' Peets
calls upon him in his captivity, 'that I've been hurried, onregyardful
of my feelin's, into the married state. But, gents, my parent is doo,
accordin' to his last letter, to come curvin' in yere any minute; an'
whatever do you-all reckon now he's goin' to say?'
"Enright an' Peets is so moved they promises the imprisoned Oscar
their support, an' this leaves him, if not hopeful, at least some
cheered.
"Monte gives his version of them nuptials when he returns from
Tucson.
"'Which it's this a-way, pards,' says Monte. 'I'm twenty miles no'th
of yere, when somethin' flashes by with a lead hoss, like arrows.
Thinks I, "That's a hoss thief gettin' away with some stock"; an',
allowin' Jack Moore'll be hard on his neefarious hocks, I'm lookin'
back to see can I raise Jack's dust. The next I knows, an' all as
sudden as a pan of milk from a top shelf, I hears a silv'ry voice
remarkin': "Set your brake!" an' turnin' my head I finds a winchester
p'intin' as squar' between my eyes as you-all could lay your finger.
Gents, thar's something mighty cogent about a winchester that a-way,
an' I shore shoves on the brake with sech abandon I snaps the shank
short off.'
"'Wharever is this Oscar party?' asks Enright.
"'He's with me on the box; an' when this yere intrepid Miss Bark takes
to dom'neerin' at us with that rifle he collapses. "It's you, Oscar,"
observes this Miss Bark, shiftin' the muzzle to him. "Upon second
thought I concloods to accept your offer of marriage."
"'Which at that crisis,' remarks Peets, 'this Oscar of course breaks
into loud an' joyful cries.'
"'Not exactly. In fact, his tones if anything is some low-sperited. "I
takes it," he says, when he's able to command his feelin's, "that you
declines them proffers with your winchester at the time when made."
But the lady dismisses this as a quibble, an' merely sayin' that she
won't be paltered with no farther, orders Oscar an' the Bible sharp
who's ridin' inside to assemble by the edge of the trail. The Bible
sharp attempts to lay the foundations of fresh objections by askin'
Oscar does he do this of his own free will; but the muzzle of the
winchester--which the bride all along reetains in her hands--begins
movin' 'round in his direction, observin' which man'festation he
pronounces 'em husband an' wife. "What heaven has j'ined together,"
says he, "let no man put asunder." After which he blesses 'em, an'
reeports the last cinch fastened. "Pay him, Oscar," whispers the
bride. Wharupon Oscar, his fingers tremblin', squars the Bible sharp
with the price of a brace of steers, an' the deed is done. Now he's
hers for better or worse, she ropes his heels together onder the belly
of her lead hoss, an' the happy pa'r goes romancin' back for
Wolfville, while I kicks loose what's left of the brake an' p'ints out
ag'in for Tucson.'
"On the third day, by givin' his parole an' promising to fondly
reeport to his spouse once every hour, Oscar is permitted to go
reecreatin' about the camp.
"'Only,' says the lady, by way of warnin' to Black Jack, 'thar's to be
no drinks.'
"These yere strained conditions preevails for mebby it's five days,
when, as the stage swings in to the post office one evenin', a stout
florid old gent gets out. He comes puffin' up to Peets a heap
soopercilious.
"'Do you-all know a addle-pated an' semi-eediotic young party,' says
he, 'who's named Oscar Freelinghuysen?'
"'Why, yes,' returns Peets, 'I do. Onless my mem'ry's pulled its
picket pin an' gone plumb astray he's the eboolient sharp who
conclooded a somewhat toomultuous courtship last week by gettin'
married. He's in the shank of his honeymoon as we stands chattin'
yere.'
"The florid gent glares at Peets, his feachures the color of liver,
his eyes stickin' out like the eyes of a snail.
"'Married!' he gasps, an' falls in a apoplectic fit.
"It takes a week an' all the drugs Peets has got before that
apoplectic's able to sit up an' call for nosepaint. An' whatever do
you think? His daughter-in-law, but onbeknownsts to him as sech,
nurses him from soda to hock. Oscar Joonior? By advice of Enright that
prodigal's took to cover over in Red Dog ontil we've made shore about
the fatted calf.
"The former Miss Bark puts up that nursin' game with Peets, an' day
an' night she hangs over her apoplectic father-in-law like a painter
over a picture. She's certainly as cunnin' as a pet fox! She dresses
as quiet as a quail an' makes her voice as softly sober as a suckin'
dove's. In the end she's got that patient hypnotized.