“‘I was see-e-e-e-e-eing Nellie-e-e-e-e home.’”
“Tha’s harmonee,” I hears Chuck opine. “Le’s all shing ‘Holy City.’
‘Lash night as I lay sheeping’—shay, Teleschope, why don’t this
machine go on, eh?”
“How do I know,” replies Telescope. “Shomebody light ’nother match so
I can read the reashon in the little book.”
“Aw, who cares?” asks Muley. “Let’s have more cheer—listen:
“I love a little lager beer,
I love a little wine;
A little bit a alcohol
Makes my heart feel fine.
But when I want a reg’lar drink,
To make my feelings hug,
I take a little snifter
From the old brown jug.”
I sets there and listens to that kind of a conversation for a while.
They tries to sing another song, but she don’t finish, and after a
while I wanders down and looks ’em over.
* * * * *
Chuck is in the bottom of the machine, with his boots hanging over the
dashboard, while Telescope is doubled up in the seat, with his feet on
Chuck’s head. Muley is on the ground, with his head through a space in
a front wheel, where some spokes are missing, and he’s snoring by
note.
I rolls him away from the machine. I gives Telescope a gentle shove,
hangs on to his leg so he won’t hit too hard and deposits him along
with Muley. Chuck is wedged in there pretty tight, and when I opines
to loosen him a little he orates something about wanting his maw to
wake him up, ’cause he’s going to be queen of the May. I never did
like to ride alone, so I lets him stay. It pains me to see the flower
of young manhood in the gutter of alcohol thataway. I finds the jug,
and am glad to see that part of it is still there.
I drinks what would measure about three inches in a wash-tub, before I
remembers how Calamity runs that machine, but all to once she comes
back to me. I sets that brake, gives her a mighty twist, and away she
goes, _whirrup, whirrup, whirrup, zuz, zuz, zuz, zuz_.
I’ve rode a lot of broncs that didn’t sabe the meaning of a bit, but
that thing was less bridlewise than anything I ever seen. We grinds
back toward Paradise, smelling of burnt grease, gasoline and so forth.
I takes another look into that jug, and feels so elevated that I puts
my feet over the dashboard. Somehow that seems to give the critter
more freedom, and we goes faster.
I gets so expert right away that I can drive one-handed, and I
discovers a little jigger on the handle that will make her prick up
her ears at a touch. I gives her a few touches, and marvels at how
fast the mesquite goes past, when all to once I hears a yelp, and we
hits something or somebody, and when I stops I’m cross ways of the
road.
My machine is as dead as a nail. Pretty soon I hears a rustling noise
in the dark, and then old man Whittaker’s voice:
“Who run into me? Gol dingle dang yuh! Blasted mule couldn’t run
faster than I could! Hey, you feller with a autymobile! Ain’t yuh got
no sense? Gol dang your soul, I’ll show yuh how yuh can run me down!
_Bang!_”
He cut loose with that six-gun, and I drops out the other side and
sneaks behind a tree.
I hears the old man cussing some more, and pretty soon he finds the
machine and strikes a match. He has to light the second one before he
finds what he’s looking for. He holds the match above his head for a
minute and then wails:
“Gol dang yuh, Chuck! Why didn’t yuh speak? Aw ——! Chuckie, where did
I hit yuh? Can’t yuh speak to a feller? Are yuh dead? My ——!”
He’s silent for a spell, and then he starts again:
“Where’s that danged slow-footed mule? Here yuh are, yuh long-eared
snail! Got to get a doctor. Self-defense—nope, accident. Whoa! Maybe
his neck is broke, too. Aw, this ain’t no way to celebrate nohow.”
He pilgrims off up the road, complaining about everything and cussing
that mule for taking him all over the State instead of straight to the
Cross J. I’d opine that the old man was so excited that he’d taken the
wrong road out of town.
I hauls the front end of that machine around again, and winds her up.
If that front end hadn’t been against a rock my obituary would have
been written right there in the dusty road, ’cause she’s wide open,
with no brake set. She’s backing and filling when I hops aboard, and
we begins our merry ride once more.