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The fours disentangle themselves reluctantly, Number Ten being the last to forsake his post. "Now we'll dae it jist yince more, and have it right," announces the instructor, with quite unjustifiable optimism. "Forrm fourrs!" This time the result is better, but there is confusion on the left flank. "Yon man, oot there on the left," shouts the instructor, "what's your number?"
"Squoad 'Shun! Move to the right in fours. Forrm fourrrs!" The audience addressed looks up with languid curiosity, but makes no attempt to comply with the speaker's request. "Come away now, come away!" urges the instructor, mopping his brow. "Mind me: on the command 'form fours, odd numbers will stand fast; even numbers tak' a shairp pace to the rear and anither to the right. Now forrm fourrs!"
"At yon three Gairman spies, gaun' up a close for tae despatch some wireless telegraphy fufty roonds fire!" To which Private M'Leary, not to be outdone, responds "Public hoose in the baur back o' seeven o'clock twa drams fower fingers rapid!" From this it is a mere step to "Butt Pairty, 'shun! Forrm fourrs! Right! By your left, quick marrch!" on a bleak and cheerless morning in late October.
Uncle Billy Fourrs is his name; and if you pass his place you can see, on a rocky knoll, the fortress of boulders which he built to hold his lands against the renegades back in the seventies.
For Uncle Billy Fourrs acknowledged the formal accusation and still maintained the land was his own. "How," asked the government prosecutor, "did you get it?" "I took it away from the Indians," was the answer. And the jury, being an Arizona jury, promptly acquitted him. Which, was, when you come to think over such incidents as the foregoing, only simple justice.
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