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But no; after the procrastinatin' fashion of real law, they permits the villain who's no more use on the surface of Arizona that a-way than one of them hydrophoby polecats whose bite is death to get a law sharp to plead an' call for a show-down before a jedge an' jury.
Hope I don't get hydrophoby. Folks gets hydrophoby from manbite sometimes, don't they?" "Gave you fight, eh?" Jim asked encouragingly. The other grunted. "You're harder'n hell to get information from," Jim burst out irritably. "Tell us about it. You ain't goin' to lose money just a-tellin' a guy." "I guess I choked him some," came the answer. Then, by way of explanation, "He woke up on me."
But I guess it's soon enough, today. Has he showed any signs, yet?" He nodded inquiringly at the impassive Lad, as he spoke. "'Soon enough' for what?" queried the puzzled Master. "And what sort of 'signs' are you talking about?" "Soon enough to shoot that big brown collie of yours," explained Wefers, with businesslike briskness. "And I'm asking if he's showed any signs of hydrophoby. Has he?"
"Hope a skunk bites you an' you get howlin' hydrophoby," were the terms of Shorty's farewell. It was in the A. C. Company's big store at Dawson, on a morning of crisp frost, that Lucille Arral beckoned Smoke Bellew over to the dry-goods counter. The clerk had gone on an expedition into the storerooms, and, despite the huge, red-hot stoves, Lucille had drawn on her mittens again.
"How much did the other mug get?" the saloon-keeper demanded. "A hundred," was the reply. "Wouldn't take a sou less, so help me." "That makes a hundred and fifty," the saloon-keeper calculated; "and he's worth it, or I'm a squarehead." The kidnapper undid the bloody wrappings and looked at his lacerated hand. "If I don't get the hydrophoby "
Why," he continued, warming to his subject and seemingly ignorant of its myths, "I once seen a man ride into San Mercial with his face that white it wouldn't 'a' showed a chalk mark! And he was holdin' up his thumb like it was pizen which it was! And he was cuttin' for old Doc Struthers that fast his cayuse was sparkin' out of his ears. Bit by a hydrophoby skunk yes, sirree.
Hicks, who called warningly as he swung it: "Stand back, Pinkey! I'm comin'!" The door crashed and splintered, and when it opened, Mr. Hicks fell in with it. He fell out again almost as quickly, for there was Pinkey with the glaring eyes of a wild man, his jaws open, and from his mouth there issued a strange white substance. "He's frothin'!" Mr. Hicks yelled shrilly. "He's got hydrophoby!
"Don't they?" said Johnny, as if surprised at such ignorance. "Why, humans is their favorite pastime! Humans is just pie to a Hydrophoby Skunk. It ain't really any fun to be bit by a Hydrophoby Skunk neither." He raised his coffee cup to his lips and imbibed deeply. "Which you certainly said something then, Johnny," stated Bill.
"We were just speakin' to one another about them Hydrophoby Skunks," said Bill apologetically. "This here Cañon is where they mostly hang out and frolic 'round." I laid down my cigar, too. I admit I was interested. "Oh!" I said softly like that. "Is it? Do they?" "Yes," said Johnny. "I reckin there's liable to be one come shovin' his old nose into that door any minute.
Jim looked at him keenly under the street lamp of the next crossing, and saw that his face was a trifle grim and that he carried his left arm peculiarly. "What's the matter with your arm?" he demanded. "The little cuss bit me. Hope I don't get hydrophoby. Folks gets hydrophoby from man-bite sometimes, don't they?" "Gave you a fight, eh!" Jim asked encouragingly. The other grunted.
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