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Updated: May 12, 2025
I wouldn't go lammin' loose at 'em with no guns; it only makes 'em madder. "It's the next day, an' Peets an' Enright is organised in the ha'nted sign-camp of the Bar-B-8. Also, they've been lookin' round. By ridin' along onder the face of the precipice, they comes, one after t'other, on what little is left of the dead steers. What strikes 'em as a heap pecooliar is that thar's no bones or horns.
Which nacherally, bein' a kyard sharp that a-way, I studies luck the same as Peets yere studies drugs; an' my discov'ries teaches that luck is plumb gregar'ous. Like misery in that proverb, luck loves company; it shore despises to be lonesome. "'Cherokee, I delights to hear you talk, says Old Man Enright, as he signs up Black Jack for the Valley Tan.
"No, it ain't them maladies that so weakens Enright he lapses into confidences about his early love; but you see, son, Peets stops his nose-paint; won't let him drink so much as a drop; an' bein' cut off short on nourishment like I says, it makes Enright at least so I allers figgers some childish an' light-headed.
"'A gent who comes from a good fam'ly, like you-all, says Old Man Enright to Dan, sort o' soothin' of him, 'oughter be removed above makin' comments on pore old Cape shiftin' his optics. Troo! it's a weakness, but where is the sport who hasn't weaknesses likewise.
"As I observes," he resumed, following a considerable pause which I was jealous to guard against word or question of my own; "I tells this tale to Colonel Sterett, Old Man Enright, an' the others one time when we're restin' from them Wolfville labours of ours an' renooin' our strength with nosepaint in the Red Light bar.
However, I'm on the trail of Jack Moore; a conference with Jack is what I needs right now. I'll be back by next drink time; an' with that Enright goes surgin' off to locate Jack. "Cherokee an' me, as might be expected, turns our powers of conversation loose with this new last eepisode of the trail.
Dan digs it up an' takes it by the laigs; Enright meanwhile cussin' him out, fervent an' nervous, for he fears some locoed Greaser will cut loose every moment an' mebby crease a gent, an' so leave it incumbent on the rest of us to desolate Chihuahua. "'It's for Nell, expostulates Dan, replyin' to Enright's criticisms. 'I knows she wants it by the way she grabs my coat that time.
But he's been thinkin' mighty arduous for quite a spell, an' when Boggs gets creased, he sees somethin' must be done, an' begins to line himse'f for a play for out. "It's the next day after Boggs gets ag'in Tutt, an' Doc Peets has plugged up the hole, when Enright rounds up the whole passel of us in the Red Light.
"'Which I should shorely concede you did, says Enright. 'The way that Red Dog gent manip'lates his weepon shows he knows his game; an' except for you a-settin' things up on him, I'm powerful afraid he'd spoiled Cherokee a whole lot. "'Well, gents, goes on Enright, after thinkin' a while, 'I reckons we-alls might as well drink on it.
"Which I'm glad he lives s'fficient to head that hoss our way, says jack. "It saves splashin' across after him an' wettin' your leggins a lot." "It's that night in camp when jack brings up what Enright says about the time the Mexicans downs a pris'ner, an' tharby fixes his views of 'em.
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