an' starts to say "I do!" Before I can edge in a word, however, he
calls over Peggy's old man. "Read that!" he cries, holdin' the license
onder old Pap Parks' nose. Old Parks reads, an' the next news I gets
he's maulin' me with his hickory walkin' stick like he's beatin' a
kyarpet.
"'Without waitin' to kiss the bride or recover my license, I simply
t'ars out the front of the house an' breaks for the woods. The next
day, old Parks takes to huntin' me with hounds. Nacherally, at this
proof of man's inhoomanity to man, I sneaks across into Kansas, an'
makes for the settin' sun.'
"'An' can't you give no guess,' says Enright, 'at why old Parks digs
up the waraxe so plumb sudden?'
"'No more'n rattlesnakes onborn, onless his inordinate glee at gettin'
me for a son-in-law has done drove him off his head.'
"'Which it couldn't be that,' says Enright, takin' a hard, thoughtful
look at the Turner person. Then, followin' a pause, he adds, 'thar's
some myst'ry yere!'
"'Ain't you-all made no try,' asks Nell, 'sech as writin' letters, or
some game sim'lar, to cl'ar things up?'
"'You-all don't know Pap Parks, Miss, in all his curves. Why, it's
lucky he ain't wearin' his old bowie at that weddin', or he'd a-split
me into half apples. If I goes to writin' missives that a-way, he'll
locate me; an' you can take my word that invet'rate old homicide 'd
travel to the y'earth's eends to c'llect my skelp. That ain't goin' to
do me; for, much as I love Peggy, I'd a heap sooner be single than
dead.'
"'That party ain't locoed,' says Texas, noddin' towards the Turner
person, whar he sets sobbin' in a cha'r when Enright gets through
examinin' him. 'He's simply a howlin' eediot. Yere he escapes wedlock
by a mir'cle; an'--chains an' slavery!--now he can't think of no
better way to employ his liberty than in cryin' his heart out because
he's free. If I'm bitter, gents, it's because I speaks from hard
experience. Considerin' how she later corrals that Laredo divorce an'
sells up my cattle at public vandoo for costs an' al'mony, if when I
troops to the altar with that lady whom I makes Missis Thompson, my
gyardian angel had gone at me with a axe, that faithful sperit would
have been doin' no more than its simple dooty in the premises.'
"Enright takes it onto himself to squar' the Turner person at the Red
Light an' the O. K. Restauraw; an', since his ensooin' conduct is much
within decent bounds, except that Rucker steps some high an' mighty
when he heaves in sight an' Black Jack gives him hard an' narrow
looks, nothin' su'gestive of trouble occurs. In less'n a week he
shakes down into his proper place, an' all as placid as a duck-pond.
He's even a sort o' fav'rite with Nell, Missis Rucker an' Tucson
Jennie, they claimin' that he's sufferin' from soul blight because of
a lost love. Certainly, thar's nothin' in this yere fem'nine bluff,
but of course none of us don't say so at the time.
"Boggs holds that the Turner person's only a pecooliarly gifted liar,
an' refooses to believe in him. 'Because it's prepost'rous,' says
Boggs, 'that folks would go in to frame up a weddin', an' then, led by
the preacher, take to mobbin' the bridegroom on the very threshold of
them nuptials.'
"'It ain't by no means shore, Dan,' says Texas, to whom Boggs imparts
his convictions, 'but what you've drove the nail. Which if that Parks
household reely has it in for this Turner person, they'd have let him
go the route. Could even the revenge of a fiend ask more than simply
seein' him a married man?'
"In about a fortnight, that Turner person's got fully cooled out, an'
the worst effects of what Red Dog licker he imbibes has disappeared.
As he feels himse'f approachin' normal, as Peets puts it, he mentions
to Enright casyooal like that, if the town sees nothin' ag'in it, he
reckons he'll open an ondertakin' shop.
"'Not,' he says, 'that I'm the man to go hintin' that what former
foonerals has been pulled off in these yere parts ain't been all they
should; but still, to get a meetropolitan effect, you oughter have a
hearse an' ploomes. Let it be mine to provide them marks of a advanced
civilization. It'll make villages like Red Dog an' Colton sing low,
an' be a distinct advantage to a camp which is strugglin' for
consid'ration. Yes, sir,' goes on the Turner person, warmin' with the
theme, 'what's the public use of obsequies if you-all don't exhaust
'em of every ounce of good? An' how can any outfit expect to do this,
an' said outfit shy that greatest evidence of modern reefinement, a
hearse? Given a rosewood coffin, an' a black hearse with ploomes--me
on the box--an' the procession linin' solemnly out for Boot Hill, if
we-all ain't the instant envy of the territory, you can peg me out by
the nearest ant hill ontil I pleads guilty to bein' wrong.'
"'Thar's no need for all this yere eloquence,' replies Enright,
blandly. 'What you proposes has been a dream of mine for years. You
open your game as fooneral director, an' if we can't find material for
you local, we'll go rummagin' 'round as far as Lordsburg an' Silver
City to supply the deficiency.'
"Feelin' Enright is behind him, the Turner person goes to work with
sech exyooberant enthoosiasm, that it ain't a month before he brings
over his hearse from Tucson, said vehicle havin' been sent on from the
East. She's shore no slouch for a catafalque neither, an' we p'rades
up an' down the street with it, gettin' the effect.
"Boggs voices the common feelin'.
"'Thar's a conveyance,' says he, 'that comes mighty close to robbin'
death of half its sting. Any sport is bound to cash in more content,
when he savvys that his last appearance is bound to be a vict'ry an'
he'll be freighted to the sepulcher in a swell wagon like that.'
"'It is shore calc'lated to confer class on the deeparted,' assents
Tutt.
"These praises certainly exalts the sperits of the Turner person a
whole lot. He buys the old Lady Gay dance hall, which, since the goin'
out of the Votes for Women S'loon, has again become the ondispooted
property of Armstrong, makes a double-door to back in the hearse, an'
reopens that deefunct temple of drink an' merriment as a ondertakin'
establishment. Over the front he hangs up his sign.
COFFIN EMPORIUM.
L. TURNER, FUNERAL DIRECTOR.
CORPSES SOLICITED.
"That sign so much uplifts the sperit of the town it mor'n doubles the
day's receipts at the Red Light. Also, two or three shady characters
vamooses for fear of what a nacheral public eagerness to see that
hearse in action may do.
"It's the day next on the hocks of the installation of the Turner
person in business, an' the fooneral director is lookin' out of the
front window of his coffin emporium wishin' some gent'd start
somethin' with his gun an' mebby bump him off a load for his new
hearse, when Enright eemerges from the post office with a iron look on
his face. Peets is with him, an' the pa'r is holdin' a pow-wow.
"The rest of us might have taken more notice, only our sombreros is
fittin' some tight on account of the interest we evinces the day prior
in he'pin' la'nch the Turner person that a-way. As it is, we bats a
lackluster eye, an' wonders in a feeble way what's done corr'gated
Enright's brow.
"It don't go no further than wonder, however, ontil after a few
moments talk with Nell, Enright sends across for the Turner person. As
showin' how keenly sens'tive are the female faculties that a-way,
Missis Rucker an' Tucson Jennie is canvassin' some infantile mal'dy of
little Enright Peets in the front room of the O. K. House, an' same as
if they smells the onyoosual in the air, they comes troopin' over to
the Red Light to note what happens next.
"'Young man,' says Enright, when the Turner person has been brought
in, 'by way of starter, let me inquire, be you preepared to surrender
your destinies, of which you're plumb onfitted to have charge, into
disgusted albeit kindly hands?'
"The Turner person, some oneasy at seein' Moore, who's carelessly
toyin' with a lariat, edgin' 'round his way, allows in tremblin' tones
he is.
"'Thar be those,' goes on Enright, 'who with the best intentions in
the world, has been explorin' the ins an' outs of your Sni-a-bar
troubles, an' while the clouds is measur'ble lifted the fresh light
shed on your concerns leaves you in a most imbecile sityooation. Which
if I thought that little Enright Peets, not yet in techin' distance of
his teens, hadn't got no more sense than you, much as I dotes upon
that baby I'd shore vote for his deemise. However, proceedin' with the
deal, thar's this to say: Nellie thar, writes to your Peggy
sweetheart, while I opens negotiations with old man Parks. I plans to
read you them replies, but after advisin' with the Doc, an' collectin'
the views of Nell, it's deemed s'fficient to tell you what you're
goin' to do, an' then head you fo'th to its accomplishment. Our
conj'int findin's, the same bein' consented to by old Parks in
writin', an' tearfully deesired by your Peggy sweetheart in what she
commoonicates to Nellie, is that you proceed at once to Sni-a-bar, an'
get them interrupted nuptials over. After which you'll be free to
return yere with your bride, an' take up the hon'rable an' useful
c'reer you've marked out. As the preesidin' officer of the Stranglers,
my word is that you be ready to start by next stage; which, onless
Monte gets so deep in licker that he tips that conveyance over a
bluff, should permit you to clasp your Peggy to your bosom an' kiss
the tears from her cheeks by the middle of next week.'
"'But,' interjects the Turner person, his voice soundin' like the
terrified bleatin' of a sheep, 'can't you-all give me no glimmer of
what's wrong that time? I don't hanker overmuch to go back in darkened
ignorance, like a lamb to the slaughter. What guarantee have I got
that old Parks won't lay for me with that bootcher knife of his'n? It
ain't fair to leave me to go knockin' about, in the midst of perils
sech as these, like a blind dog in a meat shop.'
"'Your Peggy,' returns Enright, 'encloses a letter to you by the hand
of Nellie yere, which may or may not set fo'th what insults you
perp'trates upon her fam'ly. Also, said missive furnishes the only
chance at this end of the trail of you findin' out the len'th an'
breadth of your ignorant iniquities. For myse'f, the thought of what
you-all does that time is so infooriatin' I must refuse to go over it
in words. Only, if in his first reesentments old Parks had burned you
at the stake, I would not have condemned him. As to your safety
pers'nal, you can regyard it as asshored. Your Peggy will protect you,
an' your footure parent-in-law himse'f acquits you of everything
except bein' an eediot. It's, however, got down to whether he preefers
to have a fool in his fam'ly or see his darter wretched for life, an'
he's done nerved himse'f to take the fool.'
"'Thar's your sweetheart's letter,' an' Nell puts an envelope which
smells of voylets into the Turner person's hands.
"That ondertaker reads it; an' after bein' confoosed by shame for a
moment, he begins to cheer up.
"'Folks,' he says, kissin' his Peggy's letter an' stowin' it away in
his coat, 'I trusts a gen'rous public will permit me, after thankin'
them whose kindness has smoothed out the kinks in my affairs, to close
the incident with onlimited drinks for the camp.' That's all he says;
an' neither can we dig anything further out of Enright or Nell.
"We sees the Turner person aboard the stage, an' wishes him all kinds
of luck. As Monte straightens out the reins over his six hosses an'
cleans the lash of his whip through his fingers, Peets vouchsafes a
partin' word.
"'Neither I nor Sam,' says Peets, 'wants you to go away thinkin' that
you an' your bride ain't goin' to be as welcome as roses when you an'
she comes ramblin' in as one on your return.'
"'That's whatever,' coincides Nell.
"'Also,' breaks in Enright, 'should old Parks go to stampin' the sod
or shakin' his horns, you-all are to put up with them deemonstrations
an' not make no aggrevatin' reemarks. No one knows better than you by
now, how much cause you gives that proud old gent to feel harrowed.'
[Illustration: WE SEES THE TURNER PERSON ABOARD AN' WISHES HIM ALL KINDS
OF LUCK. p. 222.]
"Of course all of us is preyed on by anxiety to know whatever awful
thing it is the Turner person does. In the end it's Missis Rucker who
smokes Enright out.
"'Sam Enright,' says this yere intrepid lady, her manner plenty
darklin', 'you mustn't forget that whenever the impulse moves me I can
shet down utter on your grub. Likewise, as a lady, I not only knows my
p'sition, but keenly feels my rights. Which I don't aim to coerce you,
but onless you comes through with the trooth about this yere Turner
person's felonies, some drastic steps is on their way.'
"'You will see, Missis Rucker,' says Enright, who's to be excoosed for
turnin' a bit white, 'that no present reason exists for threatenin' me
when I asshores you that as far back as last evenin' I fully decides
to lay bar' everything. I do this, onderstand, not through fear; but
lest some folks go surmisin' round to the inj'ry of the innocent. As I
recollects back, too, I can see how the Turner person slumps into that
mistake, him first talkin' dog to that canine party in Battle Row,
an' then askin' whar does he go for the weddin' license.'
"'Sam Enright,' interrupts Missis Rucker, whose flashin' eyes shows
she's growin' hysterical, 'don't harass me with no p'intless speeches.
You say flat what it is he does, or take the consequences.'
"'Why, my dear Missis Rucker,' an' Enright makes haste with his reply,
'the thing is easily grasped. The paper he gives the preacher sharp is
a dog license. Which that Turner person is seekin' to wed the belle of
Sni-a-bar on a permit to keep a dog! The canine party he meets in
Battle Row misonderstands a sityooation.'
"'All the same,' observes Texas to Boggs, as the two meets that
evenin' in the Noo York store, 'thar's one feachure to a dog license,
not perceivable in a marriage license, which is worth gold an'
precious stones. Said docyooment runs out in a year.'"
IX
RED MIKE
"Mebby you-all recalls about that Polish artist person?" suggested the
old cattleman, tentatively; "him I speaks of former?" My gray old
_campanero_ was measuring out what he called his "forty drops," and,
since this ceremony necessitated keeping one eye on his glass, while
he endeavored to keep the other eye on me, the contradictory effort
resulted in a wavering and uncertain expression, not at all in harmony
with his usual positive air. By way of helping conversation, I
confessed to a clear remembrance of the "Polish artist person," and
wound up by urging him to give the particulars concerning that
interesting exile.
"Well," he cautiously returned, "thar ain't nothin' so mighty
thrillin' in his Wolfville c'reer. You see he ain't, for the most, no
pop'lar figure--him bein' a furriner, that a-way, an' a artist, an'
sufferin' besides from conceit in so acoote a form as to make it no
exaggeration to say he's locoed. On account of these yere divers an'
sundry handicaps, he don't achieve no social success, an' while he's
with us, you'd hardly call him of us.
"Not that I objects to this deescendant of Warsaw's last champion,
personal. Which I'm a heap like Enright in sech reespects, an'
shore tol'rant. I finds out long ago that the reason we-all goes
fault-findin' about people, mostly is because we don't onderstand
concernin' them folk's surroundin's. Half the things we arches our
necks over, an' for which mebby we feels like killin' 'em a whole
lot, they can't he'p none. If we only savvys what they're reely up
ag'inst, it's four for one we pities 'em instead.
"It's like one time 'way back yonder, when me an' Steve Stevenson has
a sudden an' abrupt diffukulty with a buffalo bull. We're camped out
on the edge of the Rockies near the Spanish Peaks, an' me an' Steve,
in the course of a little _passear_ we're takin', is jest roundin' a
bunch of plum bushes when, as onexpected as a gun play in a Bible
class, that devil's son an' heir of a bull--who's been hid by the
bushes--ups an charges. Which you should have seen me an' Steve
scatter! We certainly do onbuckle in some hasty moves! He's bigger 'n
a baggage wagon, an' as we leaves our guns ten rods away in camp,
thar's nothin' for it but to dig out.
"Nigh whar I'm at is a measley _pinon_ tree, an' the way I swarms
aloft among that vegetable's boughs an' branches comes mighty clost to
bein' a lesson to mountain lions. Steve, who's the onluckiest sport
west of the Missouri, an' famed as sech, ain't got no tree. The best
he can do is go divin' into a hole he sees in some rocks, same as if
he's a jack-rabbit with a coyote in hot pursoote.
"Me an' Steve both bein' safe, an' reegyardin' that bull as baffled, I
draws a breath of relief. That is, to be ackerate, I starts to draw
it; but before I so much as gets it started, yere that inordinate
Steve comes b'ilin' out of his hole ag'in like he ain't plumb
satisfied about that bull. The bull's done give him up, too, an'
switchin' his tail some thoughtful has started to go away, when, as I
tells you, that fool Steve comes surgin' out upon his reetreatin'
hocks.
"Nacherally, what could any se'f-respectin' bull do but wheel an'
chase Steve back? It's no use, though; Steve won't have it. No sooner
does the bull get him hived that a-way, an' make ready to reetire to
private life ag'in, than, bing! yere Steve comes bulgin' like a cork
out of a bottle. An' so it continyoos, a reg'lar see-saw between Steve
an' the bull. Steve'll go into his cave of refooge, prairie-dog
fashion, a foot ahead of the bull's horns, only to be a foot behind
the bull's tail as that painstakin' anamile is arrangin' to deepart.
"Which sech wretched strategy arouses my contempt.
"'You dad-binged Siwash,' I yells down at Steve, 'whyever don't
you-all stay in that hole, ontil the bull forgets whar you're at?'
"'Go on!' Steve shouts back, as in he dives, head-first, for mebby
it's the twentieth time; 'it's as simple as suckin' aiggs, ain't it,
for you up in your tree? You-all don't know nothin' about this hole;
thar's a b'ar in this hole!'
"Which I allers remembers about that dilemmy of Steve's. An' now, when
I beholds a gent makin' some rannikaboo break, an' everybody's
scoffin' at him an' deenouncin' him for a loonatic or worse, I
reeflects that mighty likely if we-all was to go examine the hole he's
in, we'd find it plumb full of b'ar.
"Returnin' to the orig'nal proposition, the same bein' that Polack,
let me begin by sayin' that whenever it comes to any utterances of
his'n, I'm nacherally onable to quote him exact. What with him rollin'
his 'Rs' ontil they sounds like one of them snare drums, an' the
jiggerty-jerkety fashion wharin he chops up his English, a gent might
as soon try to quote a planin' mill exact.
"That I'm able to give you-all his troo name is doo wholly to him
passin' round his kyard a heap profoose, when he first comes ramblin'
in, said cognomen as printed bein' 'Orloff Ivan Mitzkowanski, Artist
and Painter of Portraits.' We perooses this yere fulm'nation two or
three times, an' Peets even reads it out loud; but since the tongue of
no ordinary gent is capable of ropin' an' throwin' it, to say nothin'
of tyin' it down, we cuts the gordian knot in the usual way by
re-christenin' him _pro bono publico_ as Red Mike, which places him
within the verbal reach of all.
"'Yes,' he says, as he ladles out them kyards, an' all with the
manner of a prince conferrin' favors--'yes, I'm a artist come to you,
seekin' subjects an' color. As you probably observes by my name, I'm a
gallant Pole, one whose noble ancestors shrieks when Kosciusko fell.'
"Him bein' a stranger that a-way, an' no one, onless it's Peets, ever
havin' heard about Poland, or Kosciusko, or whoever does that
shriekin' the time when Kosciusko finds himse'f bumped off, we lets
Mike get by with this yere bluff. Besides, his name of itse'f sort o'
holds us. That anyone, an' specially any furriner, could come as far
as he has, flauntin' a name like that in the sensitive face of
mankind, an' yet live to tell the tale, is shore plenty preepar'tory
to believin' anything.
"When we lets it go that owin' to local conditions we'll be obleeged
to call him 'Red Mike,' he's agree'ble.
"'As you will, my friends,' he cries, bulgin' out his breast an'
thumpin' it. 'What care I, who am destined for immortality, that
barbarians should hail me as Red Mike? It is enough that I am not
destroyed, enough that I still move an' have my bein'!'
"'Mike,' interjecks Tutt, bristlin' a little, 'don't cut loose in no
offensive flights. It's a heap onadvisable when addressin' us to
overwork that word "barbarian." As you says yourself, you're lucky to
be alive; which, bein' conceded, it'd be plenty proodent on your part
not to go doin' nothin' to change your luck.'
"'Steady thar, Dave,' says Enright, 'don't go exhibitin' your teeth to
a pore benighted furriner, an' him not onto our curves.'
"'Him bein' a furriner,' retorts Tutt, 'is but a added argyooment in
favor of him takin' heed. Speakin' for myse'f, I in partic'lar don't
want no furriner to step on my tail an' stand thar, same as if my
feelin's ain't goin' to count.'
"'Be composed, my friend,' says Mike, tryin' to follow Enright out an'
squar' himse'f with Tutt--'be composed. I reetract the "barbarians"
an' suggest a drink.'
"'That's all right, Mike,' returns Tutt, who's easy mollified; 'still
I onreservedly says ag'in that in Arizona thar's nothin' in becomin'
too difoose. All that this time lets you out, Mike, is that havin'
jest had our feed we're happ'ly lethargic. Which if you'd let fly
that crack about barbarians, an' us not fed none, some gent not
otherwise employed 'd have seized upon you as a mop-rag wharwith to
wipe up the floor.'
"Thar's allers a dispoote as to whether or no Mike reely commits
sooicide that time. Tutt an' Texas holds to the last that his light
gettin' blowed out like it does is accidental. Peets, however, insists
it's a shore-enough sooicide. Of course, Boggs goes with Peets.
Whatever's the question at bay, Boggs never fails to string his play
with the Doc's; it's Boggs's system. All you has to do to get a rise
out o' Boggs is get some opinion out o' Peets. Once the Doc declar's
himse'f, Boggs is right thar to back said declaration for his last
dollar every time.
"As sustainin' his claim of sooicide, Peets p'ints out that thar's no
gent, not a howlin' eediot complete, but knows s'fficient of giant
powder to be dead on to how it's cap'ble of bein' fired by friction.
"'Why,' he says, eloocidatin' his p'sition, 'even darkened savages is
posted as to that. I once sees a South Sea Islander, in a moose-yum
East, who sets a bunch of shavin's in a blaze by rubbin' together two
sticks. An' this yere Mike is a eddycated sharp, eddicated at a Dutch
outfit called Heidelberg. Do you-all reckon a gradyooate of sech a
sem'nary ever walks out on a cold collar, him not wise, an' performs
in the numbskull fashions as this yere Mike?'
"'That's whatever!' chimes in Boggs.
"As I tells you, any emphatic idee laid down by Peets instantly sets
Boggs to strikin' same as one of them cuckoo clocks.
"Enright?
"The old silver tip stands nootral, not sidin' with either Peets an'
Boggs or Tutt an' Texas.
"'Which this yere Mike bein' shore dead,' says Enright, 'strikes me as
s'fficient. I plants my moccasins on that, an' don't go pirootin' an'
projectin' about for no s'lootions which may or may not leave me out
on a limb.'
"You recalls how it's Monte who, while gettin' drunk with him over to
the Oriental S'loon in Tucson, deloodes Mike into p'intin' our way.
Also, what Enright says to that deboshed stage driver for so doin'.
Enright's shore fervent on that occasion, an' the language he uses
would have killed two acres of grass. But that don't he'p none. After
the dust Enright paws up has settled, thar's Mike still, all quiled up
in the Wolfville lap.