“Where is Willie?” I asked. “William Burton Suggs?”
“I heard a splash,” said Mr. Warner. “I think Willie fell into Pete
Gonyer’s horsetrough.”
“He can not swim!” I panted.
Just then we heard Willie crying:
“Assistance! Assistance! Will no one assist me?”
“He is drowning!” I gasped.
“Well,” said Mr. Warner, “if he is he has a different way of drowning
than most folks.”
We found Willie sitting in about three inches of water. He had lost his
glasses and his hat, and his coat was split from the bottom to a point
very near his collar.
Mr. Warner asked me what had happened, and I told him of the apology. I
told him what Mr. Jones had said. I do not know what Mr. Warner meant
when he said—
“I reckon I better hump myself or Dirty Shirt will have me beat four
ways from the jack.”
“But I am still in ignorance!” wailed Willie.
“Cinch,” replied Mr. Warner.
Just then Mr. Simpkins came along. He asked Mr. Warner what the trouble
was, and Mr. Warner told him of the apology to Mr. Holt. Mr. Simpkins
did not say anything, so I said—
“I know I shall never apologize to an Indian again.”
“I am all wet,” declared Willie, “all except my head, and I fear that my
head is fearfully injured.”
“Lucky for you,” said Mr. Warner. “You might have stubbed your toe and
hurt yourself.”
“I will not go back to that hotel,” I declared. “I will sleep in a
gutter before I will go back there.”
“Let ’em sleep in the jail, Magpie,” suggested Mr. Warner. “It will be
an experience for them. Got anybody in there?”
“‘Scissorbill’ Seeley and ‘Cinch’ Cooley.”
“I thought you sent them to the pen.”
“Tomorrow. Sure you fellers can sleep in the jail if yuh want to. I’ve
got a couple in there now, but they’re in a different room.”
“Did they insult somebody?” asked Willie.
“Nope—just a pair of honest horse-thieves.”
“Can a horse-thief be honest?” asked Willie.
“As long as he minds his own business,” says Mr. Warner.
* * * * *
It was surely a novel experience to sleep in a jail. There were two
narrow cots, but no other furniture. After Mr. Simpkins and Mr. Warner
were gone I said to Willie—
“Now is our chance to visualize the feelings of men who are incarcerated
for crime.”
From the next room came a voice saying:
“My ——, Scissorbill, somebody opened the booktionary!”