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It was certainly Codago, and there was certainly his pack, made up in his poncho, in the usual Greaser manner, and held tightly in his arms. But while they stared, there was a sudden movement of the pack itself. Lynn Taps gave a mighty tug at it, extricated it from the dead man's grasp, and rapidly undid it.
The next day, as the body of Codago was being carried to a newly dug grave, on the high ground overlooking the creek, and the Mexicans stood about, as if dumb staring and incessant smoking were the only proprieties to be observed on such occasions, Lynn Taps thoughtfully offered his arm to the weeping widow, and so sorrowful was she throughout the performance of the sad rites, that Lynn Taps was heard to remark that, however it might be with the men, there could be no doubt about Mexican women's possessing souls.
She come here now this minute she fall on Codago she say something, we know not he scream an' run." "He's a low-lived scoundrel!" said Chagres Charley, between his teeth. "Ef my wife thort enough of me to follow me to the diggin's, I wouldn't do much runnin' away. He's a reg'lar black-hearted, white-livered " "Sh h h!" whispered Nappy, the Frenchman.
Lynn Taps hid the baby, rewrapped, under his own blanket, and hurried down the mountain, while four men picked up Codago and followed. Lynn Taps scratched on the rawhide door; the doctor opened it. Lynn Tapps unrolled the bundle, and its occupant again raised its voice.
I wish them other fellers, instid of goin' off half-cocked, hed tracked Codago, the low-lived skunk. To think of him runnin' away from wife, an' young one, too! Forward, git!" "They hain't got no souls that's what made him do it, Charley," said Lynn Taps, as the men deployed.
Lynn Taps walked up to the bar, and rapped upon it. "Walk up, boys," said he; "fill high; hats off. Here's Codago. Maybe he didn't have a soul, but if he didn't, souls ain't needed in this world. Buttoms up, every man."
"Here 'tis, I reckon!" cried Mississip, springing across a small cleft in the rocks, and running toward a dark object lying on the sheltered side of a small cliff. "Good God!" he continued, as he stooped down; "it's Codago! An' he's froze stiff." "Serve him right, cuss him," growled Lynn Taps. "I almost wish he had a soul, so he could catch it good an' hot, now he's gone!"
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