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Updated: June 13, 2025
But I had no more idee than a cat that we'd bump into what we did. They was a time when a outfit like ours could 'a' kep' peace in a town by just bein' there. Things are changin' fast. If the Gov'ment don't do somethin' about allowin' the scum of this country to get hold of guns and ca'tridges wholesale, they's goin' to be a whole lot of extra book-keepin' for the recordin' angel.
Why, we'd jest kind uv bresh the moisture from our eyes 'nd say: "Mister recordin' angel, you may nolly pros this case 'nd perseed with the docket." I hev allus hed a good opinion uv the wimmin folks. I don't look at 'em as some people do; uv course they're a necessity just as men are.
And so he rode on howewards, occasionally a lookin' down on the Deacon with looks that I hope the recordin' angel didn't photograph, so dire, and so revengeful, and jealous, and and everything, they wuz. And ever, after ketchin' the look in my eye, the look in his'n would change to a heart-rendin' one of remorse, and sorrow, and shame for what he had done.
"Ef it comes t' that," exclaimed Chip in a resentful tone, "what's the matter with you goin' ahead and turnin' the trick. There ain't nobody here that knows better'n you how to keep the recordin' angel workin' double shifts." There was a laugh at this, but when it subsided Sandy had his answer ready: "It ain't a question o' lyin' with me," he explained.
Nobody knows about the sale of that little piece of property except Aunt Sharley and Lew Lake and me and the man who bought it and the man who recorded the deed that I drew up. Even the man who bought it never learned the real name of the previous owner, and the matter of the recordin' was never made public.
I'm on official business. I'm just traipsin' along to take the census of Squaw Creek." To another, who hailed him with: "Where away, little one? Do you really expect to stake a claim?" Shorty answered: "Me? I'm the discoverer of Squaw Creek. I'm just comin' back from recordin' so as to see no blamed chechako jumps my claim."
He lived long enough, I spoze, to add several more victims to the countless list of such murders that lays on our country's doorsteps, and then he too died, a bloated, loathsome wreck, makin' another victim for the recordin' angel to mark down, if there is room in her enormous books of debt and credit with this traffic for another name.
I'm on official business. I'm just traipsin' along to take the census of Squaw Creek." To another, who hailed him with: "Where away, little one? Do you really expect to stake a claim?" Shorty answered: "Me? I'm the discoverer of Squaw Creek. I'm just comin' back from recordin' so as to see no blamed chechaquo jumps my claim."
"Next time a woman like that one tells me to do any recordin' of claims I'll do it, you bet; for somehow, I can't explain it, but there are others besides Eugene Field's kids who are good at 'seein' things at night, and a woman can sometimes feel things that we fellows can't see in broad daylight. "Now you have my reasons for stakin' for her yesterday.
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