Chapter 7

"It's yere eevents begins to fall together like a shock of oats. The Mockin' Bird's been over entrancin' Tucson, an' the reg'lar stage with Monte not preecisely dove-tailin' with her needs, she charters a speshul buckboard to get back. Thar's a feeble form of hooman ground owl drivin' her, one of these yere parties who's all alkali an' hard luck, an' as deevoid of manly sperit as jack-rabbits onweaned.

"This yere ground owl party, drivin' for the Mockin' Bird, comes clatterin' along with the buckboard jest as Turkey Track strips the saddle an' bridle from his deefunct pony. Turkey Track is not without execyootive ability, an' seein' he's afoot an' thirty miles from his home ranch, he pulls his gun an' sticks up the buckboard plenty prompt. At the mere sight of a weepon the hands of that young owl-person goes searchin' for stars, an' he's beggin' Turkey Track not to rub him out--him thinkin' it's a reg'lar hold-up. That's all the opp'sition thar is, onless you counts the reemarks of the Mockin' Bird, who becomes both bitter an' bitin' in equal parts, but has no more effect on Turkey Track--an' him afoot that a-way--than pourin' water on a drowned rat. Shore, a cow-puncher'd fight all day, an' even face a enraged female, before he'd walk a hour.

"Turkey Track piles his saddle an' bridle onto the r'ar of the buckboard, an' settin' in behind on his plunder, commands the ground owl driver to head west till further orders. Likewise, he so far onbends as to say that them orders won't be deecem'nated, none whatever, ontil he's landed at the Turkey Track home ranch. Since he backs this yere programme with his artillery, the ground owl ain't got nothin' to say, an' it's no time when the outfit's weavin' along a side trail in the sole int'rests of Turkey Track.

"What's worse, to dispell the ennui of sech a trip, an' drive away dull care, Turkey Track takes to despotizin' over the Mockin' Bird with his six-shooter, an' compels her to sing constant throughout them thirty miles. He makes her carrol everythin' from 'Old Hundred' to 'Turkey in the Straw,' an' then brings her back to 'Old Hundred' an' starts her over. The pore harassed Mockin' Bird, what with the dust, an' what with Turkey Track tyrannizin' at her with his gun, sounds final like an ongreased wheelbarrow which has seen better days. She don't get her voice ag'in for mighty clost to a month, an' even then, as she says herse'f, thar's places where the rivets reequires tightenin'.

"It's pressin' onto eight weeks before ever Turkey Track is heard of 'round town ag'in. Also, it's in the Bird Cage Op'ry House he hits the surface of his times. The Mockin' Bird has jest done drove the vocal picket-pin of 'Old Kentucky Home,' when, bang! some loonatic shoots at her. Which the bullet bores a hole in the scenery not a foot above her head.

"Every one sees by the smoke whar that p'lite attention em'nates from, an' before you could count two, Moore, Boggs, an' Texas Thompson has convened themselves on top of that ident'cal spot. Thar sets Turkey Track, cryin' like a child.

"'It's no use, gents,' he sobs, the tears coursin' down his cheeks, 'she's so plumb bewitchin', an' I adores her so, I simply has to blaze away or bust.'

"While he don't harm the Mockin' Bird none, the sent'ment of the Stranglers, when Enright raps 'em to order inform'ly at the Red Light an' Black Jack has organized the inspiration, favors hangin' Turkey Track. Even Texas, who loathes ladies by reason of what's been sawed off onto him in the way of divorce an' alimony, that a-way, by his Laredo wife, is yoonan'mous for swingin' him off.

"'That I don't believe in marryin' 'em,' says Texas, expoundin' his p'sition concernin' ladies in answer to Boggs who claims he's inconsistent, 'don't mean I wants 'em killed. But you never was no logician, Dan.'

"Cherokee's the only gent who's inclined to softer attitoodes, an' that leeniency is born primar'ly of the inflooence of Nell. Nell is plumb romantic, an' when she hears how the Turkey Track's been enfiladin' at the Mockin' Bird only because he loves her, while she don't reely know what she does want done with that impossible cow-puncher, she shore don't want him hanged.

"'It's sech a interestin' story!' says Nell, an' then capers across to Missis Rucker an' Tucson Jennie to c'llect their feelin's.

"Moore brings in Turkey Track.

"'Be you-all tryin' to blink out this yere young lady?' asks Enright, 'or is that gun play in the way of applause?'

"'It's love,' protests Turkey Track, his voice chokin'; 'it's simply a cry from the soul. I learns to love her that day on the buckboard while I'm lookin' at her red ha'r, red bein' my winnin' color. Gents, you-all won't credit it none, but jest the same them auburn tresses gets wropped about my heart.'

"'Whatever do you make of it, Doc?' whispers Enright.

"'This boy,' returns Peets, 'has got himse'f too much on his own mind. He's sufferin' from what the books calls exaggerated ego.'

"'That's one way of bein' locoed, ain't it?'

"'Shore. But him bein' twisted mental ain't no reason for not adornin' the windmill with his remains. The only public good a hangin' does is to scare folks up a lot, an' you can scare a loonatic quite as quick an' quite as hard as a gent whose intellects is plumb.'

"'Thar she stands,' Turkey Track breaks in ag'in, not waitin' for no questions, 'an' me as far below her as stingin' lizards is from stars! Then, ag'in, when folks down in front is a'plaudin' her, she wavin' at 'em meanwhile the gracious smile, it makes me jealous. Gents, I don't plan nothin', but the first I knows I lugs out the old .45 an' onhooks it.'

"The Mockin' Bird has come over from the O. K. House with Nell, Missis Rucker an' Tucson Jennie. As she hears Turkey Track's confession two drops shows in her eyes like diamonds. Clutchin' hold of Nell, an' with Missis Rucker an' Tucson Jennie flockin' along in the r'ar, she rushes out the front door.

"This manoover leaves us some upset, ontil Nell returns to explain.

"'She's overcome by them disclosures,' says Nell, 'an' goes outside to blush.'

"'The ontoward breaks of that songstress,' observes Enright oneasily, 'has a tendency to confoose the issue, an' put this committee in the hole.'

"'Thar's nothin' confoosin' about it, Sam Enright.' It's Missis Rucker who breaks out high an' threatenin', she havin' come back with Nell. 'This yere Mockin' Bird girl's in love with that gun-playin' cowboy, an' it's only now she finds it out. Do you-all murderers still insist on hangin' this yere boy, or be you willin' to see 'em wed an' live happy ever after?'

"'Let's rope up a divine some'ers,' exclaims Boggs, 'an' have 'em married. If that Mockin' Bird girl wants Turkey Track she shall shore have him. I'd give her his empty head on a charger, if she asks it, same as that party in holy writ, she singin' "Suwannee River" like she does.'

"Cherokee, who's more or less rooled by Nell, thinks a weddin' the proper step, an' Tutt, who sees somethin' in Tucson Jennie's eye, declar's himse'f some hasty.

"Even Texas backs the play.

"'But make no mistake,' says Texas; 'I insists on wedlock over lynchin' only because it's worse.'

"'Which it's as well, Sam Enright,' observes Missis Rucker, blowin' through her nose mighty warlike, 'that you an' your marauders has sense enough to see your way through to that deecision. Which if you'd failed, I'd have took this Turkey Track boy away from you-all with my own hands. This Vig'lance Committee needn't think it's goin' to do as it pleases 'round yere--hangin' folks for bein' in love, an' closin' its y'ears to the moans of a bleedin' heart.'

"'My dear ma'am,' says Enright, his manner mollifyin'; 'I sees nothin' to discuss. The committee surrenders this culprit into the hands of you-all ladies, an' what more is thar to say?'

"'Thar's this more to say,' an' Missis Rucker's that earnest her mouth snaps like a trap. 'You an' your gang, settin' round like a passel of badgers, don't want to get it into your heads that you're goin' to run rough-shod over me. When I gets ready to have my way in this outfit, the prairie dog that stands in my path'll shore wish he'd never been born.'

"Enright don't say nothin' back, an' the balance of us maintainin' a dignified silence, Missis Rucker, after a look all 'round, withdraws, takin' with her Tucson Jennie an' Nell, Turkey Track in their midst.

"'Gents,' observes Enright, when they're shore departed, an' speakin' up deecisive, 'ways must be deevised to 'liminate the feminine element from these yere meetin's. I says this before, but the idee don't seem to take no root. Thar's nothin' lovelier than woman, but by virchoo of her symp'thies she's oncap'ble of exact jestice. Her feelin's lead her, an' her heart's above her head. For which reasons, while I wouldn't favor nothin' so ondignified as hidin' out, I s'ggests that we be yereafter more circumspect, not to say surreptitious, in our deelib'rations.'

"Shore, they're married. The cer'mony comes off in the O. K. House, an' folks flocks in from as far away as Deming.

"'If you was a chemist, Sam,' says Peets, tryin' to eloocidate what happens when the Mockin' Bird learns she's heart-hungry that a-way for Turkey Track, 'you'd onderstand. It's as though her love's held in s'lootion, an' the jar of Turkey Track's gun preecip'tates it.'

"'Mebby so,' returns Enright; 'but as a play, this thing's got me facin' back'ards. Thar's many schemes to win a lady, but this yere's the earliest instance when a gent shoots his way into her arms.'

"'Well,' returns Peets, 'you know the old adage--to which of course thar's exceptions.' Yere he glances over at Missis Rucker. 'It runs:

"A woman, a spaniel an' a walnut tree, The more you beat 'em the better they be."

"Boggs has been congratchoolatin' Turkey Track, an' kissin' the bride. Texas, as somber as a spade flush, draws Boggs into a corner.

"'That Turkey Track,' says Texas, 'considers this a whipsaw. He misses hangin', an' he gets the lady. He feels like he wins both ways. Wait! Dan, it won't be two years when he'll discover that, compar'd to marriage, hangin' that a-way ain't nothin' more'n a technical'ty.'"

VI

THAT WOLFVILLE-RED DOG FOURTH

"By nacher I'm a patriot, cradle born and cradle bred; my Americanism, second to none except that of wolves an' rattlesnakes an' Injuns an' sim'lar cattle, comes in the front door an' down the middle aisle; an' yet, son, I'm free to reemark that thar's one day in the year, an' sometimes two, when I shore reegrets our independence, an' wishes thar had been no Yorktown an' never no Bunker Hill."

The old cattleman tasted his glass with an air weary to the borders of dejection; after which he took a pathetic puff at his pipe. I knew what had gone wrong. This was the Fifth of July. We had just survived a Fourth of unusual explosiveness, and the row and racket thereof had worn threadbare the old gentleman's nerves.

"Yes, sir," he continued, shoving a 'possum-colored lock back from his brow, "as I suffers through one of them calamities miscalled cel'brations, endoorin' the slang-whangin' of the orators an' bracin' myse'f ag'inst the slam-bangin' of the guns, to say nothin' of the firecrackers an' kindred Chinese contraptions, I a'preeciates the feelin's of that Horace Walpole person Colonel Sterett quotes in his _Daily Coyote_ as sayin', 'I could love my country, if it ain't for my countrymen.'

"Still, comin' down to the turn, I reckon it merely means, when all is in, that I'm gettin' too plumb old for comfort. It's five years now since I dare look in the glass, for fear I'd be tempted to count the annyooal wrinkles on my horns.

"It's mighty queer about folks. Speakin' of cel'brations, for thousands of years the only way folks has of expressin' any feelin' of commoonal joy, that a-way, is to cut loose in limitless an' onmeanin' uproar. Also, their only notion of a public fest'val is for one half of the outfit to prance down the middle of the street, while the other half banks itse'f ag'inst the ediotic curb an' looks at 'em.

"People in the herd ain't got no intelligence. We speaks of the lower anamiles as though we just has it on 'em completely in the matter of intelligence, but for myse'f I ain't so shore. The biggest fool of a mule-eared deer savvys enough to go feedin' up the wind, makin' so to speak a skirmish line of its nose to feel out ambushes. Any old bull elk possesses s'fficient wisdom to walk in a half-mile circle, as a concloodin' act before reetirin' for the night, so that with him asleep in the center, even if the wind does shift, his nose'll still get ample notice of whatever man or wolf may take to followin' his trail.

"That's what them 'lower anamiles' does. An' now I asks, what man, goin' about his numbskull dest'nies, lookin' as plumb wise as a too-whoo owl at noon, ever shows gumption equal to keepin' the constant wind in his face, or has the sense to go walkin' round himse'f as he rolls into his blankets, same as that proodent elk? After all, I takes it that these yere Fo'th of Jooly upheavals is only one among the ten thousand fashions in which hoomanity eternally onbuckles in expressin' its imbecil'ty.

"Which I certainly do get a heap disgusted at times with the wild beast called man. With all his bluffs about bein' so mighty sagacious, I can sit yere an' see that, speakin' mental, he ain't better than an even break with turkey gobblers. Even what he calls his science turns finally out with him to be but the accepted ignorance of to-day; an' he puts in every to-morrow of his existence provin' what a onbounded jackass rabbit he's been the day before. It's otherwise with them lower anamiles; what they knows they knows."

Plainly, something had to be done to fortify my old friend. I fell back, quite as a matter of course, upon that first aid to the injured, another drink, and motioned the black waiter to the rescue. It did my old friend good, that drink, the first fruits of which easier if not better condition being certain fresh accusations against himself.

"The trooth is, I'm a whole lot onused to these yere Fo'th of Jooly outbursts; an' so I ondoubted suffers from 'em more keenly, that a-way, than the av'rage gent. You see we never has none of 'em in Wolfville; leastwise we never does but once. On that single festive occasion we shore stubs our toe some plentiful, stubs it to that degree, in fact, that we never feels moved to buck the game ag'in. Once is enough for Wolfville.

"Which it's the single failure that stains the fame of the camp. At that, the flat-out reely belongs to Red Dog; or at least to Pete Bland, for which misguided party the Red Dogs freely acknowledges reespons'bility as belongin' to their outfit.

"This yere Bland's dead now an' deep onder the doomsday sods. Also, he died drinkin' like he'd lived.

"'What's the malady?' Enright asks Peets, when the Doc comes trackin' back, after seein' the finish of Bland.

"'No malady at all, Sam,' says Peets, plumb cheerful an' frisky, same as them case-hardened drug folks allers is when some other sport passes in his checks--'no malady whatsoever. His jag simply stops on centers, as a railroad gent'd say, an' I'm onable to start it ag'in.'

"Was Peets any good as a med'cine man? Son, I'm shocked! Peets is packin' 'round in his professional warbags the dipplomies of twenty colleges, an' is onchallenged besides as the best eddicated sharp personal on the sunset side of the Mississippi. You bet, he onderstands the difference at least between bread pills an' buckshot, which is a heap sight further than some of these yere drug folks ever studies.

"Colonel Sterett, who's fa'rly careful about what he says, reefers to Peets in his _Daily Coyote_ as a 'intellectchooal giant,' an' thar ain't no record of any scoffer comin' squanderin' along to contradict. Mebby you'll say that the omission to do so is doo to the f'rocious attitoode of the _Daily Coyote_ itse'f, techin' contradictions, an' p'int to how that imprint keeps standin' at the head of its editorial columns as a motto, the cynicism:

"'Contradict the _Coyote_ and avoid old age!'

"Thar'd be nothin' in it if you do. That motto's only one of Colonel Sterett's bluffs, one of his witticisms that a-way. You don't reckon that, in a sparsely settled country, whar the pop'lation is few an' far between, the Colonel's goin' to go bumpin' off a subscriber over mebby a mere difference of opinion? The Colonel ain't quite that locoed."

"But about your Wolfville-Red Dog Fourth of July celebration?" I urged.

"Which I'm in no temper to tell a story--me settin' yere with every nerve as tight as a banjo catgut jest before it snaps. To reelate yarns your mood ought to be the mood of the racontoor--a mood as rich an' rank an' upstandin' as a field of wheat, ready to billow an' bend before every gale of fancy. The way yesterday leaves me, whatever tale I ondertakes to reecount would about come out of my mouth as stiff an' short an' brittle as chopped hay. Also, as tasteless. Better let it go till some other an' more mellow evenin'."

No; I was ready to accept the chances, and said as much. A chopped-hay style, for a change, might be found acceptable. Supplementing the declaration with renewed Old Jordan, I was so far victorious that my aged man of cattle yielded.

"Well, then," he began reluctantly, "I'm onable to partic'larly say which gent does make the orig'nal s'ggestion, but my belief is it's Peets. I'm shore, however, that the Cornwallis idee comes from Bland; an', since it's not only at that Cornwallis angle we-all falls publicly down, but the same is primar'ly doo to the besotted obstinacy of this yere Bland himse'f, Wolfville, while ever proudly willin' to b'ar whatever blame's sawed off on to her shoulders proper, is always convinced that Red Dog an' not us is to be held accountable. However, Bland's gone an' paid what the sky scouts speaks of as the debt to nacher, an' I'm willin' to confess for one that when he's sober he ain't so bad. Not that them fits of sobriety is either so freequent or so protracted they takes on any color of monotony.

"Bland's baptismal name is Pete, an' in his way he's a leadin' inflooence in Red Dog. He's owner of the 7-bar-D outfit, y'earmark a swallow-fork in both y'ears--which brands seventeen hundred calves each spring round-up; an' is moreover proprietor of the Abe Lincoln Hotel, the same bein' Red Dog's principal beanery. Bland don't have to keep this yere tavern none, but it arranges so he sees his friends an' gets their _dinero_ at one an' the same time, which as combinin' business an' pleasure in equal degrees appeals to him a heap.

"Which it's the gen'ral voice that the best thing about Bland is his wife. She's shore loyal to Bland, you bet! When they're livin' in Prescott, an' a committee of three from one of them 'Purification Of The Home' societies comes trapesin' in, to tell her about Bland bein' ondooly interested in a exyooberant young soobrette who's singin' at the theayter, an' spendin' his money on her mighty permiscus, Missis Bland listens plenty ca'm ontil they're plumb through. Then she hands them Purifiers this:

"'Well, ladies, I'd a heap sooner have a husband who can take keer of two women than a husband who can't take keer of one.'

"After which she comes down on that Purification bunch like a fallin' star, an' brooms 'em out of the house. Accordin' to eye witnesses, who speaks without prejewdyce, she certainly does dust their bunnets strenuous.

"When Bland hears he pats Missis Bland on the shoulder, an' exclaims, 'Thar's my troo-bloo old Betsy Jane! She knows I wouldn't trade a look from them faded old gray eyes of hers for all the soobretts whoever pulls a frock on over their heads!'

"Followin' which encomium Bland sends to San Francisco an' changes in the money from five hundred steers for an outfit of diamonds, to go 'round her neck, an' preesents 'em to Missis Bland.

"'Thar,' he says, danglin' them gewgaws in the sun, 'you don't notice no actresses flittin' about the scene arrayed like that, do you? If so, p'int out them over-bedecked females, an' I'll see all they've got on an' go 'em five thousand better, if it calls for every 7-bar-D steer on the range.'

"'Pete,' says Missis Bland, clampin' on to the jooelry with one hand, an' slidin' the other about his neck, 'you certainly are the kindest soul who ever makes a moccasin track in Arizona, besides bein' a good provider.'

"Shore, this yere Bland ain't so plumb bad.

"An' after a fashion, too, he's able to give excooses. Talkin' to Peets, he lays his rather light an' frisky habits to him bein' a preacher's son.

"'Which you never, Doc,' he says, 'meets up with the son an' heir of a pulpiteer that a-way, who ain't pullin' on the moral bit, an' tryin' for a runaway.'

"'At any rate, Pete,' the Doc replies, all cautious an' conservative, 'I will say that if you're lookin' for some party who'll every day be steady an' law abidin', not to say seedate, you'll be a heap more likely to find him by searchin' about among the progeny of some party who's been lynched.'

"Recurrin' again to that miserabul Fo'th of Jooly play we cuts loose in, it's that evenin' when we invites Red Dog over in a body to he'p consoome the left-over stock of lickers in the former Votes For Women S'loon, an' nacherally thar's some drinkin'. As is not infrequent whar thar's drinkin', views is expressed an' prop'sitions made. It's then we takes up the business of havin' that cel'bration.

"Peets makes a speech, I recalls, an' after dilatin' 'round to the effect that Fo'th of Jooly ain't but two weeks ahead, allows that it'd be in patriotic line for us to do somethin'.

"'Conj'intly,' says Peets, 'Red Dog an' Wolfville, movin' together with one proud purpose of patriotism, ought to put over quite a show. As commoonities we're no longer in the swaddlin' clothes of infancy. It's time, too, that we goes on record as a whole public in some manner an' form best calk'lated to make a somnolent East set up an' notice us.'

"Peets continyoos in a sim'lar vein, an' speaks of the settlement of the Southwest, wharin we b'ars our part, as a 'Exodus without a prophet, a croosade without a cross,' which sent'ment he confesses he takes from a lit'rary sport, but no less troo for that. He closes by sayin' that if everybody feels like he does Wolfville an' Red Dog'll j'ine in layin' out a program, that a-way, which'll shore spread the glorious trooth from coast to coast that we-all is on the map to stay.

"It's a credit to both outfits, how yoonanimously the s'ggestion is took up. Which I never does see a public go all one way so plumb quick, an' with so little struggle, since B'ar Creek Stanton is lynched; which act of jestice even has the absoloote endorsement of B'ar Creek himse'f.

"Peets is no sooner done talkin' than Tutt stacks in.

"'Thar's our six-shooters,' says he, 'for the foosilade; an', as for moosic, sech as "Columbia the Gem" an' the "Star Spangled Banner," we can round up them Dutchmen, who's the orchestra over at the Bird Cage Op'ry House.'

"The talk rambles on, one word borryin' another, ontil we outlines quite a game. Thar's to be a procession between Wolfville an' Red Dog, an' back ag'in, Faro Nell leadin' the same on a _pinto_ pony as the Goddess of Liberty.

"'An' that reeminds me,' submits Cherokee, when we reaches Nell; 'thar's Missis Rucker. It's goin' to hurt her feelin's to be left out. As the preesidin' genius of the O. K. Restauraw she's in shape to give us a racket we'll despise in eevent she gets her back up.'

"'How about lettin' her in on the play,' says Boggs, 'an' typ'fyin' Jestice, that a-way?'