"'Don't they have no roast dog at that warjig? asks Dan Boggs, when I'm relatin' these reminiscences in the Red Light. "'No, I says; 'Osages don't eat no dogs. "'It's different with Utes a lot, says Dan, 'Which Utes regyards dogs fav'rable, deemin' 'em a mighty sucyoolent an' nootritious dish.

Take that warjig whereof I recently relates an' wherein this yere Wild Bill Hickox wipes out the McCandlas gang six to his Colt's, four to his bowie, an' one to his Hawkins rifle; eleven in all I asks him myse'f later when he's able to talk, don't he regyard the eepisode as some romantic.

We- alls figgers, lookin' on, that Jim an' Bill aims to put the rattlesnake in prison; leave him captive that a-way in a cactus calaboose. But we don't size up Jim an' Bill accurate at all. Them two fowls is shorely profound. "No sooner is the corral made, than Jim an' Bill, without a word of warnin', opens up a warjig 'round the outside; flappin' their pinions an' screechin' like squaws.