fellers trying to ack innercent. Any unbiased man which was there, and survived to tell the tale, knows I acted all the way through with as much dignity as a man can ack which is being shot at by forty or fifty wild-eyed buffalo skinners.
I had never even saw a buffalo hunter before, because it was the first time I'd ever been that far East. I was taking a pasear into New Mexico with a cowpoke by the name of Glaze Bannack which I'd met in Arizona. I stopped in Albuquerque and he went on, heading for Dodge City. Well, I warn't in Albuquerque as long as I'd aimed to be, account of going broke quicker'n I expected. I had jest one dollar left after payin' for having three fellers sewed up which had somehow got afoul of my bowie knife after criticizing the Democratic party. I ain't the man to leave my opponents on the public charge.
Well, I pulled out of town and headed for the cow camps on the Pecos, aiming to git me a job. But I hadn't went far till I met a waddy riding in, and he taken a good look at me and Cap'n Kidd, and says: 'You must be him. Wouldn't no other man fit the description he gimme.'
'Who?' I says.
'Glaze Bannack,' says he. 'He gimme a letter to give to Breckinridge Elkins.'
So I says, 'Well, all right, gimme it.' So he did, and it read as follers:
Dere Breckinridge:
I am in jail in Panther Springs for nothin all I done was kind of push the deperty sheriff with a little piece of scrap iron could I help it if he fell down and fracktured his skull Breckinridge. But they say I got to pay $Ten dolars fine and I have not got no sech money Breckinridge. But old man Garnett over on Buck Creek owes me ten bucks so you colleck from him and come and pay me out of this hencoop. The food is terrible Breckinridge. Hustle.
Yore misjedged frend.
Glaze Bannack, Eskwire.
Glaze never could stay out of trouble, not being tactful like me, but he was a purty good sort of hombre. So I headed for Buck Creek and collected the money off of Old Man Garnett, which was somewhat reluctant to give up the dough. In fact he bit me severely in the hind laig whilst I was setting on him prying his fingers loose from that there ten spot, and when I rode off down the road with the dinero, he run into his shack and got his buffalo gun and shot at me till I was clean out of sight.
But I ignored his lack of hospitality. I knowed he was too dizzy to shoot straight account of him having accidentally banged his head on a fence post which I happened to have in my hand whilst we was rassling.
I left him waving his gun and howling damnation and destruction, and I was well on the road for Panther Springs before I discovered to my disgust that my shirt was a complete rooin. I considered going back and demanding that Old Man Garnett buy me a new one, account of him being the one which tore it. But he was sech a onreasonable old cuss I decided agen it and rode on to Panther Springs, arriving there shortly after noon.
The first critter I seen was the purtiest I gal I'd saw in a coon's age. She come out of a store and stopped to talk to a young cowpuncher she called Curly. I reined Cap'n Kidd around behind a corn crib so she wouldn't see me in my scare-crow condition. After a while she went on down the street and went into a cabin with a fence around it and a front porch, which showed her folks was wealthy, and I come out from behind the crib and says to the young buck which was smirking after her and combing his hair with the other hand, I says: 'Who is that there gal? The one you was jest talkin' to.'
'Judith Granger,' says he. 'Her folks lives over to Sheba, but her old man brung her over here account of all the fellers over there was about to cut each other's throats over her. He's makin' her stay a spell with her Aunt Henrietta, which is a war-hoss if I ever seen one. The boys is so scairt of her they don't dast try to spark Judith. Except me. I persuaded the old mudhen to let me call on Judith and I'm goin' over there for supper.'
'That's what you think,' I says gently. 'Fact is, though, Miss Granger has got a date with me.'
'She didn't tell me--' he begun scowling.
'She don't know it herself, yet,' I says. 'But I'll tell her you was sorry you couldn't show up.'
'Why, you--' he says bloodthirsty, and started for his gun, when a feller who'd been watching us from the store door, he hollered: 'By golly, if it ain't Breckinridge Elkins!'
'Breckinridge Elkins?' gasped Curly, and he dropped his gun and keeled over with a low gurgle.
'Has he got a weak heart?' I ast the feller which had recognized me, and he said, 'Aw, he jest fainted when he realized how clost he come to throwin' a gun on the terror of the Humbolts. Drag him over to the hoss trough, boys, and throw some water on him. Breckinridge, I owns that grocery store there, and yore paw knows me right well. As a special favor to me will you refrain from killin' anybody in my store?'
So I said all right, and then I remembered my shirt was tore too bad to call on a young lady in. I generally has 'em made to order, but they warn't time for that if I was going to eat supper with Miss Judith, so I went into the general store and bought me one. I dunno why they don't make shirts big enough to fit reasonable sized men like me. You'd think nobody but midgets wore shirts. The biggest one in the store warn't only eighteen in the collar, but I didn't figger on buttoning the collar anyway. If I'd tried to button it it would of strangled me.
So I give the feller five dollars and put it on. It fit purty clost, but I believed I could wear it if I didn't have to expand my chest or something. Of course, I had to use some of Glaze's dough to pay for it with but I didn't reckon he'd mind, considering all the trouble I was going to gitting him out of jail.
I rode down the alley behind the jail and come to a barred winder, and said, 'Hey!'
Glaze looked out, kinda peaked, like his grub warn't setting well with him, but he brightened up and says, 'Hurray! I been on aidge expectin' you. Go on around to the front door, Breck, and pay them coyotes the ten spot and let's go. The grub I been gitten' here would turn a lobo's stummick!'
'Well,' I says, 'I ain't exactly got the ten bucks, Glaze. I had to have a shirt, because mine got tore, so--'
HE GIVE A YELP LIKE a stricken elk and grabbed the bars convulsively.
'Air you crazy?' he hollered. 'You squanders my money on linens and fine raiment whilst I languishes in a prison dungeon?'
'Be ca'm,' I advised. 'I still got five bucks of yore'n, and one of mine. All I got to do is step down to a gamblin' hall and build it up.'
'Build it up!' says he fiercely. 'Lissen, blast your hide! Does you know what I've had for breakfast, dinner and supper, ever since I was throwed in here? Beans! Beans! Beans!'
Here he was so overcome by emotion that he choked on the word.
'And they ain't even first-class beans, neither,' he said bitterly, when he could talk again. 'They're full of grit and wormholes, and I think the Mex cook washes his feet in the pot he cooks 'em in.'
'Well,' I says, 'sech cleanliness is to be encouraged, because I never heard of one before which washed his feet in anything. Don't worry. I'll git in a poker game and win enough to pay yore fine and plenty over.'
'Well, git at it,' he begged. 'Git me out before supper time. I wants a steak with ernyuns so bad I can smell it.'
So I headed for the Golden Steer saloon.
They warn't many men in there jest then, but they was a poker game going on, and when I told 'em I craved to set in they looked me over and made room for me. They was a black whiskered cuss which said he was from Cordova which was dealing, and the first thing I noticed, was he was dealing his own hand off of the bottom of the deck. The others didn't seem to see it, but us Bear Creek folks has got eyes like hawks, otherwise we'd never live to git grown.
So I says, 'I dunno what the rules is in these parts, but where I come from we almost always deals off of the top of the deck.'
'Air you accusin' me of cheatin'?' he demands passionately, fumbling for his weppins and in his agitation dropping three or four extra aces out of his sleeves.
'I wouldn't think of sech a thing,' I says. 'Probably them marked kyards I see stickin' out of yore boot-tops is merely soovernears.'
For some reason this seemed to infuriate him to the p'int of drawing a bowie knife, so I hit him over the head with a brass cuspidor and he fell under the table with a holler groan.
Some fellers run in and looked at his boots sticking out from under the table, and one of 'em said, 'Hey! I'm the Justice of the Peace. You can't do that. This is a orderly town.'
And another'n said, 'I'm the sheriff. If you cain't keep the peace I'll have to arrest you!'
This was too much even for a mild-mannered man like me.
