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diff --git a/30352-h/30352-h.htm b/30352-h/30352-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..379a82d --- /dev/null +++ b/30352-h/30352-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6287 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Santa Fé's Partner, by Thomas A. Janvier.</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + @media screen { + hr.pb {margin:30px 0; width:100%; border:none;border-top:thin dashed silver;} + .pagenum {display: inline; font-size: x-small; text-align: right; text-indent: 0; position: absolute; right: 2%; padding: 1px 3px; font-style: normal; font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration: none; background-color: inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + .pncolor {color: silver;} + } + @media print { + hr.pb {border:none;page-break-after: always;} + .pagenum { display:none; } + } + body {margin-left: 11%; margin-right: 10%;} + p {margin-top: 0.5em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: 0.5em;} + + blockquote {display: block; margin: .75em 5%; font-size: 90%;} + h1 {font-size:1.6em;} + h1,h2,h3 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal;} + h2 {font-size:1.4em;} + h3 {font-size:1.2em;} + hr.spcl {border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; width:10%;} + p.tp {font-size:1em; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; text-align:center;} + + .caption {font-size: 90%; text-align:center;} + .chsp {margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em;} + .figcenter {margin: 2em auto 2em auto; text-align: center; width: auto;} + .figtag {height: 1px;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + a {text-decoration: none;} + hr.tb {border: none; border-bottom:1px solid black; width: 33%; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;} + hr.toprule {width: 65%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; clear:both;} + p.center {text-align: center !important;} + p.ralign {text-align: right !important;} + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; clear: both;} + td.chalgn {text-align:right; margin-top:0; padding-right:1em;} +</style> + +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30352 ***</div> + +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_1' id='linki_1'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/f0001-insert.jpg' alt='' title='' width='366' height='542' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +“‘LOOK! LOOK! THERE BY THOSE LITTLE BUSHES!’”<br /> +</p> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> + +<div style='margin:25px auto; text-align:center;'> +<img alt="Santa Fé's Partner, Being Some Memorials of Events in a New-Mexican Track-end Town, by Thomas A. Janvier" src='images/f0002-insert.jpg' /> +</div> + +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:0.8em;'>Copyright, 1907, by HARPER & BROTHERS.</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:0.8em;'><i>All rights reserved.</i></p> +<hr class='spcl' /> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:0.8em;'>Published September, 1907.</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:0.9em;'>TO</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:1.0em;'>C. A. J.</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<h3>CONTENTS</h3> +<table border='0' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents' style='margin:1em auto;'> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>I.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Palomitas</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#I_PALOMITAS'>1</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>II.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Sage-Brush Hen</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#II_THE_SAGEBRUSH_HEN'>15</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>III.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Hart’s Nephew’s Hold-Up</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#III_HARTS_NEPHEWS_HOLDUP'>44</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>IV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Santa Fé Charley’s Kindergarten</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#IV_SANTA_F_CHARLEYS_KINDERGARTEN'>77</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>V.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Boston’s Lion-Hunt</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#V_BOSTONS_LIONHUNT'>127</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Shorty Smith’s Hanging</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VI_SHORTY_SMITHS_HANGING'>163</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Purification of Palomitas</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#VII_THE_PURIFICATION_OF_PALOMITAS'>208</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class='pb' /> +<h3>Illustrations</h3> +<div style='font-size:smaller;'> +<table border='0' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Illustrations' style='margin:1em auto;'> +<col style='width:75%;' /> +<col style='width:25%;' /> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>“‘LOOK! LOOK! THERE BY THOSE LITTLE BUSHES!’”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_1'><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>“HER LEFT HAND WAS LAYING IN HER LAP, AND THE OLD GENT GOT A-HOLD OF IT”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_2'>22</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>“WROTE OUT A NOTICE THAT WAS TACKED UP ON THE DEEPO DOOR”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_3'>84</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>“‘ONE OF THE NEW GERMAN KINDERGARTEN APPLIANCES’”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_4'>120</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>“STARING ’ROUND THE PLACE SAME AS IF HE’D STRUCK A MENAGERIE”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_5'>132</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>“‘IT’S HOTTER THAN SAHARA!’ SAID THE ENGLISHMAN”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_6'>166</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>“AND DOWN HART WENT IN A HEAP ON THE FLOOR”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_7'>196</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>“‘DON’T HANG HIM, SIR!’ SHE GROANED OUT”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_8'>224</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<h1>Santa Fé’s Partner</h1> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_1' name='page_1'></a>1</span></div> +<p style='text-align:center; margin-top:2em;font-size:1.6em;'>Santa Fé’s Partner</p> +<div class='chsp' style='padding-top:0'> +<a name='I_PALOMITAS' id='I_PALOMITAS'></a> +<h2>I</h2> +<h3>PALOMITAS</h3> +</div> +<p>I’ve been around considerable +in the Western Country––mostly +some years back––and +I’ve seen quite a little, one +way and another, of the folks +living there: but I can’t really and truly +say I’ve often come up with them nature’s +noblemen––all the time at it doing stunts +in natural nobility––the story-books make +out is the chief population of them parts. +Like enough the young fellers from the +East who write such sorts of books––having +plenty of spare time for writing, while +they’re giving their feet a rest to get +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_2' name='page_2'></a>2</span> +the ache out––do come across ’em, same as +they say they do; but I reckon the herd’s a +small one––and, for a fact, if you could cross +the book brand with the kind you mostly +meet on the ranges the breed would be +improved.</p> +<p>Cow-punchers and prospectors and such +don’t look like and don’t act like what tenderfoots +is accustomed to, and so they size +’em up to be different all the way through. +They ain’t. They’re just plain human nature, +same as the rest of us––only more so, +through not being herded close in. About +the size of it is, most folks needs barbed wire +to keep ’em from straying. In a rough country––where +laws and constables ain’t met +with frequent––a good-sized slice of the +population ’s apt to run wild. With them +that’s white, it don’t much matter. The +worst you can say against ’em is, they sometimes +do a little more shooting than seems +really needed; but such doings is apt to +have a show of reason at the bottom of ’em, +and don’t happen often anyhow––most being +satisfied to work off their high spirits some +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_3' name='page_3'></a>3</span> +other way. With them that’s not white, +things is different. When the Apache streak +gets on top it sends ’em along quick into +clear deviltry––the kind that makes you +cussed just for the sake of cussedness and +not caring a damn; and it’s them that has +give some parts of the Western Country––like +it did New Mexico in the time I’m talking +about, when they was bunched thick +there––its bad name.</p> +<p>In the long run, of course, the toughs is +got rid of––being shoved out or hung out, at +first by committees and later on in regular +shape by sheriffs and marshals––and things +is quieted down. It’s the everlasting truth, +though, that them kind of mavericks mostly +is a blame sight commoner in parts just +opened than the story-book kind––that’s always +so calm-eyed and gentle-natured and +generous and brave. What’s more, I reckon +they’ll keep on being commoner, human nature +not being a thing that changes much, till +we get along to the Day of Judgment round-up––and +the goats is cut out and corralled +for keeps.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_4' name='page_4'></a>4</span></div> +<p>For certain, it was goats was right up at +the head of the procession in the Territory +in my time––which was the time when the +railroads was a-coming in––and in them days +things was rough. The Greasers living there +to start with wasn’t what you might call +sand-papered; and the kind of folks found +in parts railroads has just got to, same as +I’ve mentioned, don’t set out to be extry +smooth. Back East they talked about the +higher civilization that was overflowing New +Mexico; but, for a cold fact, the higher +civilization that did its overflowing on that +section mostly had a sheriff on its tracks +right along up to the Missouri––and the rest +of the way done what it blame felt like, and +used a gun.</p> +<p>Some of them native Mexicans wasn’t bad +fighters. When they went to hacking at one +another with knives––the way they was used +to––they often done right well. But when +they got up against the higher civilization––which +wasn’t usually less ’n half drunk, and +went heeled with two Colt’s and a Winchester––they +found out they’d bit off more’n they +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_5' name='page_5'></a>5</span> +could chew. Being sandy, they kept at it––but +the civilizers was apt to have the call. +And in between times, when the two of ’em––the +Greasers and the civilizers––wasn’t taking +the change out of each other, they both +of ’em took it out of anybody who happened +to come along.</p> +<p>Yes, sirree!––in them days things was a +good deal at loose ends in the Territory. +When you went anywheres, if you was going +alone, you always felt you’d better leave +word what trail you took: that is, if you was +fussy in such matters, and wanted what the +coyotes left of you brought in by your +friends and planted stylish––with your name, +and when it happened, painted on a board.</p> +<p>This place where the track got stuck––sticking +partly because there was trouble +with the Atchison, and partly because the +Company couldn’t foreclose onto a year jag +any more out of the English stockholders to +build on with––was up on a bluff right over +the Rio Grande and was called Palomitas. +Being only mostly Greasers and Indians living +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_6' name='page_6'></a>6</span> +in the Territory––leaving out the white +folks at Santa Fé and the army posts, and +the few Germans there was scattered about––them +kind of queer-sounding names was what +was mainly used.</p> +<p>It wasn’t never meant to be no sort of an +American town nohow, Palomitas wasn’t––being +made to start with of ’dobes (which is +Mexican for houses built of mud, and mud +they was in the rainy season) spilled around +on the bluff anywheres; and when the track +come along through the middle of it the +chinks was filled in with tents and shingle-shacks +and dugouts––all being so mixed up +and scattery you’d a-thought somebody’d +been packing a town through them parts in +a wagon and the load had jolted out, sort of +casual over the tail-board, and stuck where +it happened to come down. The only things +you could call houses was the deepo, and the +Forest Queen Hotel right across the track +from it, and Bill Hart’s store. Them three +buildings was framed up respectable; with +real windows that opened, and doors such as +you could move without kicking at ’em till +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7' name='page_7'></a>7</span> +you was tired. The deepo was right down +stylish––having a brick chimney and being +painted brown. Aside the deepo was the +tank and the windmill that pumped into it. +Seems to me at nights, sometimes, I can hear +that old windmill going around creaking and +clumpetty-clumpetting now!</p> +<p>Palomitas means “little doves”––but I +reckon the number of them birds about the +place was few. For about a thousand years, +more or less, it had been run on a basis of +two or three hundred Mexicans and a sprinkling +of pigs and Pueblo Indians––the pigs was +the most respectable––and it was allowed to +be, after the track got there, the toughest +town the Territory had to show. Santa Cruz +de la Cañada, which was close to it, was said +to have took the cake for toughness before +railroad times. It was a holy terror, Santa +Cruz was! The only decent folks in it was +the French padre––who outclassed most +saints, and hadn’t a fly on him––and a German +named Becker. He had the Government +forage-station, Becker had; and he +used to say he’d had a fresh surprise every +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8' name='page_8'></a>8</span> +one of the mornings of the five years he’d +been forage-agent––when he woke up and +found nobody’d knifed him in the night and +he was keeping on being alive!</p> +<p>But when the track come in, and the +higher civilization come in a-yelling with it +and spread itself, Palomitas could give points +to the Cañada in cussedness all down the +line. Most of it right away was saloons and +dance-halls; and the pressure for faro accommodation +was such the padre thought he +could make money by closing down his own +monte-bank and renting. Denver Jones took +his place at fifty dollars a week, payable every +Saturday night––and rounded on the padre +by getting back his rent-money over the table +every Sunday afternoon. He’d a-got it back +Sunday mornings if the padre hadn’t been +tied up mornings to his work. (He was a +native, that padre was––and went on so +extra outrageous his own folks couldn’t stand +him and Bishop Lamy bounced him from his +job.) Pretty much all the time there was +rumpusses; and the way they was managed +made the Mexicans––being used, same as I’ve +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9' name='page_9'></a>9</span> +said, to knives mostly––open their eyes wide. +It seemed really to jolt ’em when they begun +to find out what a live man with his back +up could do with a gun! Occurrences was +so frequent––before construction started up +again, and for a while after––the new cemetery +out in the sage-brush on the mesa +come close to having as big a population as +the town.</p> +<p>What happened––shootings, and doings of +all sorts––mostly centred on the Forest +Queen. That was the only place that called +itself a hotel in Palomitas––folks being able +to get some sort of victuals there, and it having +bunks in a room off the bar-room where +passers-through was give a chance to think +(by morning they was apt to think different) +they was going to have a night’s sleep. +Kicking against what you got––and against +the throwed-in extras you’d a-been better +without––didn’t do no good. Old Tenderfoot +Sal, who kept the place, only stuck her fat +elbows out and told the kickers she done the +best she knowed how to, and she reckoned it +was as good as you could expect in them +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10' name='page_10'></a>10</span> +parts, and most was suited. If they didn’t +like the Forest Queen Hotel, she said, they +was free to get out of it and go to one that +suited ’em better––and as there wasn’t none +to go to, Sal held the cards.</p> +<p>She was a corker, Sal was! By her own +account of herself, she’d learned hotel-keeping +through being a sutler’s wife in the war. +What sutling had had to do with it was left +to guess at, and there was opinions as to how +much her training in hoteling had done for +her; but it was allowed she’d learned a heap +of other things––of one sort and another––and +her name of Tenderfoot was give her +because them fat feet of hers, in the course +of her travels, had got that hard I reckon +she wouldn’t a-noticed it walking on red-hot +point-upwards ten-penny nails!</p> +<p>In the Forest Queen bar-room was the biggest +bank there was in town. Blister Mike––he +was Irish, Blister was, and Sal’s bar-keep––had +some sort of a share in it; but it was +run by a feller who’d got the name of Santa +Fé Charley, he having had a bank over in +Santa Fé afore Sal give him the offer to come +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span> +across to Palomitas and take charge. He +was one of the blue-eyed quiet kind, Charley +was, that’s not wholesome to monkey with; +the sort that’s extra particular about being +polite and nice-spoken––and never makes no +mistakes, when shooting-time comes, about +shooting to kill. When he was sober, though––and +he had to keep sober, mostly, or his +business would a-suffered––he wasn’t hunting +after rumpusses: all he did was to keep +ready for ’em, and hold his end up when they +come along. He had the habit––same as +some other of the best card sharps I’ve met +with––of dressing himself in black, real stylish: +wearing a long-tail coat and a boiled +shirt and white tie, and having a toney wide-brimmed +black felt hat that touched him off +fine. With them regular fire-escape clothes +on, folks was apt to take him for one; and, +when they did, he always met ’em half-way +by letting on preaching was his business––till +he got ’em on the other side of the table +and begun to shake down what cards he +needed from up inside them black coat-sleeves. +Mostly they ended by thinking that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span> +maybe preaching wasn’t just what you might +call his strongest hold.</p> +<p>It helped him in his work more’n a little, +sometimes, dressing up that way and talking +to suit, like he knowed how to, real high-toned +talk; but I do believe for a fact he +enjoyed the dollars he got out of it less ’n he +did the fun it give him making fools of folks +by setting up rigs on ’em––he truly being +the greatest hand at rigging I ever seen. +Somehow––not having the comfort of being +able to get drunk half as often as he wanted +to––it seemed like he give himself the let-out +he needed in them queer antics; and, for certain, +he managed ’em always so they went +with a hum. When him and the Sage-Brush +Hen played partners in rigging anybody––as +they was apt to, the Hen being much such +another and so special friends with Charley +she’d come on after him from Santa Fé––there +mostly was a real down spirited game!</p> +<p>She was what you might call the leading +lady in the Forest Queen dance-hall, the +Sage-Brush Hen was; and if you wanted +fun, and had to choose between her and a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span> +basket of monkeys, all I’ve got to say is––nobody’d +ever a-took the monkeys who +knowed the Hen! That girl was up to +more queer tricks than anybody of her size +and shape––she had a powerful fine shape, +the Hen had––I’ve ever laid eyes on; and +she’d run ’em in you so slick and quiet––keeping +as demure as a cat after birds while +she was doing it––you’d never suspicion anything +was happening till you found the whole +town laughing its head off at you for being +so many kinds of a fool!</p> +<p>Things wasn’t any time what you might +call too extra quiet in Palomitas; but when +them two––the Hen and Santa Fé––started +in together to run any racket you may bet +your life there was a first-class circus from +the word go! Grass didn’t grow much under +their feet, either. The very minute the Hen +struck the town––coming on after Santa Fé, +same as I’ve said, and him waiting for her +when she got there––they went at their monkey-shining, +finishing two-handed what the +Hen had started as a lone-hand game. Right +along from then on they kept things moving +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span> +spirited, one way and another, without much +of a let-up. And they ended off––the day +the two of ’em, owing to circumstances, lit +out together––by setting up on all of us what +I reckon was the best rig ever set up on anybody +anywheres since rigs was begun!</p> +<p>Palomitas was a purer town, Cherry said––it +was him led off in the purifying––after we +was shut of ’em, and of some others that was +fired for company; and I won’t say he wasn’t +right in making out it was a better town, +maybe, when we’d got it so blame pure. +But they had their good points, the Hen and +Santa Fé had––and after they was purified +out of it some of us didn’t never quite feel +as if the place was just the same.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span> +<a name='II_THE_SAGEBRUSH_HEN' id='II_THE_SAGEBRUSH_HEN'></a> +<h2>II</h2> +<h3>THE SAGE-BRUSH HEN</h3> +</div> +<p>The Hen blew in one day on +Hill’s coach, coming from +Santa Fé, setting up on the +box with him––Hill run his +coach all the time the track +was stuck at Palomitas, it being quicker for +Santa Fé folks going up that way to Pueblo +and Denver and Leadville than taking the +Atchison out to El Moro and changing to the +Narrow Gauge––and she was so all over dust +that Wood sung out to him: “Where’d you +get your Sage-Brush Hen from?” And the +name stuck.</p> +<p>More folks in Palomitas had names that +had tumbled to ’em like that than the kind +that had come regular. And even when they +sounded regular they likely wasn’t. Regular +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span> +names pretty often got lost coming across the +Plains in them days––more’n a few finding it +better, about as they got to the Missouri, to +leave behind what they’d been called by back +East and draw something new from the pack. +Making some sort of a change was apt to be +wholesomer and often saved talk.</p> +<p>Hill said the Hen was more fun coming +across from Santa Fé than anything he’d +ever got up against; and she was all the +funnier, he said, because when he picked her +up at the Fonda she looked like as if butter +wouldn’t melt in her mouth and started in +with her monkey-shines so sort of quiet and +demure. Along with her, waiting at the +Fonda, was an old gent with spectacles who +turned out to be a mine sharp––one of them +fellows the Government sends out to the +Territory to write up serious in books all the +fool stories prospectors and such unload on +’em: the kind that needs to be led, and ’ll +eat out of your hand. The Hen and the old +gent and Hill had the box-seat, the Hen in +between; and she was that particular about +her skirts climbing up, and about making +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span> +room after she got there, that Hill said he +sized her up himself for an officer’s wife going +East.</p> +<p>Except to say thank you, and talk polite +that way, she didn’t open her head till they’d +got clear of the town and begun to go slow +in that first bit of bad road among the sandhills; +and it was the old gent speaking to her––telling +her it was a fine day, and he hoped +she liked it––that set her stamps to working +a little then. She allowed the weather was +about what it ought to be, and said she was +much obliged and it suited her; and then she +got her tongue in behind her teeth again as +if she meant to keep it there––till the old +gent took a fresh start by asking her if she’d +been in the Territory long. She said polite +she hadn’t, and was quiet for a minute. +Then she got out her pocket-handkerchief +and put it up to her eyes and said she’d +been in it longer’n she wanted, and was +glad she was going away. Hill said her +talking that way made him feel kind of +curious himself; but he didn’t have no need +to ask questions––the old gent saving him +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span> +that trouble by going for her sort of fatherly +and pumping away at her till he got the +whole thing.</p> +<p>It come out scrappy, like as might be expected, +Hill said; and so natural-sounding he +thought he must be asleep and dreaming––he +knowing pretty well what was going on +in the Territory, and she telling about doings +that was news to him and the kind he’d +a-been sure to hear a lot of if they’d ever +really come off. Hill said he wished he could +tell it all as she did––speaking low, and ketching +her breath in the worst parts, and mopping +at her eyes with her pocket-handkerchief––but +he couldn’t; and all he could say about +it was it was better’n any theatre show he’d +ever seen. The nubs of it was, he said, that +she said her husband had taken out a troop +from Fort Wingate against the Apaches (Hill +knew blame well up there in the Navajo +country was no place to look for Apaches) +and the troop had been ambushed in a +cañon in the Zuñi Mountains (which made +the story still tougher) and every man of +’em, along with her “dear Captain” as she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span> +called him, had lost his hair. “His loved +remains are where those fierce creatures left +them,” she said. “I have not even the sad +solace of properly burying his precious +bones!” And she cried.</p> +<p>The old gent was quite broke up, Hill said, +and took a-hold of her hand fatherly––she was +a powerful fine-looking woman––and said she +had his sympathy; and when she eased up +on her crying so she could talk she said she +was much obliged––and felt it all the more, +she said, because he looked like a young +uncle of hers who’d brought her up, her +father being dead, till she was married East +to her dear Captain and had come out to the +Territory with him to his dreadful doom.</p> +<p>Hill said it all went so smooth he took it +down himself at first––but he got his wind +while she was crying, and he asked her what +her Captain’s name was, and what was his +regiment; telling her he hadn’t heard of +any trouble up around Wingate, and it was +news to him Apaches was in them parts. +She give him a dig in the ribs with her elbow––as +much as to tell him he wasn’t to ask no +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span> +such questions––and said back to him her +dear husband was Captain Chiswick of the +Twelfth Cavalry; and it had been a big +come down for him, she said, when he got +his commission in the Regulars, after he’d +been a Volunteer brigadier-general in the +war.</p> +<p>Hill knowed right enough there wasn’t +no Twelfth Cavalry nowhere, and that the +boys at Wingate was A and F troops of the +Fourth; but he ketched on to the way she +was giving it to the old gent––and so <i>he</i> give +<i>her</i> a dig in the ribs, and said he’d knowed +Captain Chiswick intimate, and he was as +good a fellow as ever was, and it was a +blame pity he was killed. She give him a +dig back again, at that––and was less particular +about making room on his side.</p> +<p>The old gent took it all in, just as it come +along; and after she’d finished up about the +Apaches killing her dear Captain he wanted +to know where she was heading for––because +if she was going home East, he said, he was +going East himself and could give her a +father’s care.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span></div> +<p>She said back to him, pleasant like, that a +young man like him couldn’t well be fathering +an old lady like her, though it was obliging +of him to offer; but, anyway, she wasn’t +going straight back East, because she had +to wait awhile at Palomitas for a remittance +she was expecting to pay her way through––and +she wasn’t any too sure about it, she +said, whether she’d get her remittance; or, +if she did get it, when it would come. Everything +bad always got down on you at once, +she said; and just as the cruel savages had +slain her dear Captain along come the news +the bank East he’d put his money in had +broke the worst kind. Her financial difficulties +wasn’t a patch on the trouble her +sorrowing heart was giving her, she said; +but she allowed they added what she called +pangs of bitterness to her deeper pain.</p> +<p>The old gent––he wasn’t a fool clean +through––asked her what was the matter +with her Government transportation; she +having a right to transportation, being an +officer’s widow going home. Hill said he +give her a nudge at that, as much as to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span> +say the old gent had her. She didn’t faze +a bit, though. It was her Government +transportation she was waiting for, she +cracked back to him smooth and natural; +but such things had to go all the way to +Washington to be settled, she said, and +then come West again––Hill said he ’most +snickered out at that––and she’d known +cases when red-tape had got in the way and +transportation hadn’t been allowed at all. +Then she sighed terrible, and said it might +be a long, long while before she could get +home again to her little boy––who was all +there was left her in the world. Her little +Willy was being took care of by his grandmother, +she said, and he was just his father’s +own handsome self over again––and she got +out her pocket-handkerchief and jammed it +up to her eyes.</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_2' id='linki_2'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/p0022-insert.jpg' alt='' title='' width='363' height='543' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +“HER LEFT HAND WAS LAYING IN HER LAP,<br /> +AND THE OLD GENT GOT A-HOLD OF IT”<br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span></div> +<p>Her left hand was laying in her lap, sort of +casual, and the old gent got a-hold of it and +said he didn’t know how to tell her how sorry +he was for her. Talking from behind her +pocket-handkerchief, she said such sympathy +was precious; and then she went on, kind of +pitiful, saying she s’posed her little Willy’d +have forgot all about her before she’d get +back to him––and she cried some more. Hill +said she done it so well he was half took in +himself for a minute, and felt so bad he went +to licking and swearing at his mules.</p> +<p>After a while she took a brace––getting +down her pocket-handkerchief, and calling +in the hand the old gent was a-holding––and +said she must be brave, like her dear Captain’d +always been, so he’d see when he +was a-looking at her from heaven she was +doing the square thing. And as to having +to wait around before she went East, she +said, in one way it didn’t make any matter––seeing +she’d be well cared for and comfortable +at Palomitas staying in the house of the +Baptist minister, who’d married her aunt.</p> +<p>Hill said when she went to talking about +Baptist ministers and aunts in Palomitas he +shook so laughing inside he most fell off the +box. Except the Mexican padre who belonged +there––the one I’ve spoke of that +made a record, and Bishop Lamy had to +bounce––and sometimes the French ones +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span> +from San Juan and the Cañada, who was +straight as strings, there wasn’t a fire-escape +ever showed himself in Palomitas; and as +to the ladies of the town––well, the ladies +wasn’t just what you’d call the aunt kind. +It’s a cold fact that Palomitas, that year +when the end of the track stuck there, was +the cussedest town, same as I’ve said it was, +in the whole Territory––and so it was no +more’n natural Hill should pretty near bust +himself trying to hold in his laughing when +the Hen took to talking so off-hand about +Palomitas and Baptist ministers and aunts. +She felt how he was shaking, and jammed +him hard with her elbow to keep him +from letting his laugh out and giving her +away.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>Hill said they’d got along to Pojuaque by +the time the Hen had finished telling about +herself, and the fix she was in because she +had to wait along with her aunt in Palomitas +till her transportation come from Washington––and +she just sick to get East and grab her +little Willy in her arms. And the old gent +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span> +was that interested in it all, Hill said, it was +a sight to see how he went on.</p> +<p>At Pojuaque the coach always made a +noon stop, and the team was changed and +the passengers got dinner at old man Bouquet’s. +He was a Frenchman, old man +Bouquet was; but he’d been in the Territory +from ’way back, and he’d got a nice garden +behind his house and things fixed up French +style. His strongest hold was his wine-making. +He made a first-class drink, as drinks +of that sort go; and, for its kind, it was +pretty strong. As his cooking was first-class +too, Hill’s passengers––and the other folks +that stopped for grub there––always wanted +to make a good long halt.</p> +<p>Hill said it turned out the old gent knowed +how to talk French, and that made old man +Bouquet extra obliging––and he set up a +rattling good dinner and fetched out some of +the wine he said he was in the habit of keeping +for his own drinking, seeing he’d got +somebody in the house for once who really +could tell the difference between good and +bad. He fixed up a table out in the garden––aside +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span> +of that queer tree, all growed together, +he thought so much of––and set +down with ’em himself; and Hill said it was +one of the pleasantest parties he’d ever been +at in all his born days.</p> +<p>The Hen and the old gent got friendlier +and friendlier––she being more cheerful when +she’d been setting at table a while, and getting +to talking so comical she kept ’em all +on a full laugh. Now and then, though, +she’d pull up sudden and kind of back away––making +out she didn’t want it to show so +much––and get her pocket-handkerchief to +her eyes and snuffle; and then she’d pull +herself together sort of conspicuous, and say +she didn’t want to spoil the party, but she +couldn’t help thinking how long it was likely +to be before she’d see her little boy. And +then the old gent would say that such tender +motherliness did her credit, and hers was a +sweet nature, and he’d hold her hand till she +took it away.</p> +<p>Hill said the time passed so pleasant he +forgot how it was going, and when he happened +to think to look at his watch he found +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span> +he’d have to everlastingly hustle his mules +to get over to Palomitas in time to ketch +the Denver train. He went off in a tearing +hurry to hitch up, and old man Bouquet +went along to help him––the old gent saying +he guessed he and Mrs. Chiswick would stay +setting where they was, it being cool and +comfortable in the garden, till the team was +put to. They set so solid, Hill said, they +didn’t hear him when he sung out to ’em he +was ready; and he said he let his mouth go +wide open and yelled like hell. (Hill always +talked that careless way. He didn’t mean +no harm by it. He said it was just a habit +he’d got into driving mules.) They not coming, +he went to hurry ’em, he said––and as he +come up behind ’em the Hen was stuffing +something into her frock, and the old gent +was saying: “I want you to get quickly to +your dear infant, my daughter. You can return +at your convenience my trifling loan. +And now I will give you a fatherly kiss––”</p> +<p>But he didn’t, Hill said––because the Hen +heard Hill’s boots on the gravel and faced +round so quick she spoiled his chance. He +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span> +seemed a little jolted, Hill said; but the Hen +was so cool, and talked so pleasant and natural +about what a nice dinner they’d been +having, and what a fine afternoon it was, he +braced up and got to talking easy too.</p> +<p>Then they all broke for the coach, and got +away across the Tesuque River and on +through the sandhills––with Hill cutting +away at his mules and using words to ’em fit +to blister their hides off––and when they +fetched the Cañada they’d about ketched up +again to schedule time. After the Mexican +who kept the Santa Cruz post-office had +made the mess he always did with the mail +matter, and had got the cussing he always +got from Hill for doing it, they started off +again––coming slow through that bit of +extra heavy road along by the Rio Grande, +but getting to the deepo at Palomitas all +serene to ketch the Denver train.</p> +<p>All the way over from Pojuaque, Hill said, +he could see out of the corner of his eye the +old gent was nudging up to the Hen with his +shoulder, friendly and sociable; and he said +he noticed the Hen was a good deal less particular +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span> +about making room. The old gent +flushed up and got into a regular temper, +Hill said, when Wood sung out as they +pulled in to the deepo platform: “Where’d +you get your Sage-Brush Hen from?”––and +that way give her what stuck fast for her +name.</p> +<p>As it turned out, they might a-kept on +a-hashing as long as they’d a mind to at +Pojuaque; and Hill might a-let his mules +take it easy, without tiring himself swearing +at ’em, on a dead walk––there being a wash-out +in the Comanche Cañon, up above the +Embudo, that held the train. It wasn’t +much of a wash-out, the conductor said; but +he said he guessed all hands likely’d be more +comfortable waiting at Palomitas, where +there was things doing, than they would be +setting still in the cañon while the track-gang +finished their job––and he said he reckoned +the train wouldn’t start for about three +hours.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>The Hen and the old gent was standing +on the deepo platform, where they’d landed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span> +from the coach; and Hill said as he was +taking his mails across to the express-car he +heard him asking her once more if she hadn’t +better come right along East to her lonely +babe; and promising to take a father’s care +of her all the way. The Hen seemed to be +in two minds about it for a minute, Hill said, +and then she thanked him, sweet as sugar, +for his goodness to her in her time of trouble; +and told him it would be a real comfort to +go East with such a kind escort to take care +of her––but she said it wouldn’t work, because +she was expected in Palomitas, and +not stopping there would be disappointing +to her dear uncle and aunt.</p> +<p>It was after sundown and getting duskish, +while they was talking; and she said she +must be getting along. The old gent said +he’d go with her; but she said he mustn’t +think of it, as it was only a step to the parsonage +and she knew the way. While he +was keeping on telling her she really must +let him see her safe with her relatives, up +come Santa Fé Charley––and Charley sung +out: “Hello, old girl. So you’ve got here! +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span> +I was looking for you on the coach, and I +thought you hadn’t come.”</p> +<p>Hill said he begun to shake all over with +laughing; being sure––for all Charley in his +black clothes and white tie looked so toney––it +would be a dead give away for her. But +he said she only give a little jump when +Santa Fé sung out to her, and didn’t turn a +hair.</p> +<p>“Dear Uncle Charley, I <i>am</i> so glad to see +you!” she said easy and pleasant; and then +round she come to the old gent, and said as +smooth as butter to him: “This is my uncle, +the Baptist minister, sir, come to take me to +the parsonage to my dear aunt. It’s almost +funny to have so young an uncle! Aunt’s +young too––you see, grandfather married a +second time. We’re more like sister and +brother––being so near of an age; and he +always will talk to me free and easy, like he +always did––though I tell him now he’s a +minister it don’t sound well.” And then she +whipped round to Charley, so quick he hadn’t +time to get a word in edgeways, and said to +him: “I hope Aunt Jane’s well, and didn’t +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span> +have to go up to Denver––as she said she +might in her last letter––to look after Cousin +Mary. And I do hope you’ve finished the +painting she said was going on at the parsonage––so +you can take me in there till my +transportation comes and I can start East. +This kind gentleman, who’s going up on to-night’s +train, has been offering––and it’s just +as good of him, even if I can’t go––to escort +me home to my dear baby; and he’s been +giving me in the sweetest way his sympathy +over my dear husband Captain Chiswick’s +loss.”</p> +<p>Hill said he never knowed anybody take +cards as quick as Santa Fé took the cards +the Hen was giving him. “I’m very happy +to meet you, sir,” he said to the old gent; +“and most grateful to you for your kindness +to my poor niece Rachel in her distress. We +have been sorrowing over her during Captain +Chiswick’s long and painful illness––”</p> +<p>“My dear Captain had been sick for three +months, and got up out of his bed to go and +be killed with his men by those dreadful +Apaches,” the Hen cut in.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span></div> +<p>“––and when the news came of the massacre,” +Charley went right on, as cool as an +iced drink, “our hearts almost broke for her. +Captain Chiswick was a splendid gentleman, +sir; one of the finest officers ever sent out to +this Territory. His loss is a bad thing for +the service; but it is a worse thing for my +poor niece––left forsaken along with her +sweet babes. They are noble children, sir; +worthy of their noble sire!”</p> +<p>“Oh, Uncle Charley!” said the Hen. +“Didn’t you get my letter telling you my +little Jane died of croup? I’ve only my little +Willy, now!” And she kind of gagged.</p> +<p>“My poor child. My poor child!” said +Santa Fé. “I did not know that death had +winged a double dart at you like that––your +letter never came.” And then he said to +the old gent: “The mail service in this Territory, +sir, is a disgrace to the country. The +Government ought to be ashamed!”</p> +<p>Hill said while they was giving it and taking +it that way he most choked––particular +as the old gent just gulped it all down whole.</p> +<p>Hill said the three of ’em was sort of quiet +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span> +and sorrowful for a minute, and then Santa +Fé said: “It is too bad, Rachel, but your +Aunt Jane did have to go up to Denver +yesterday––a despatch came saying Cousin +Mary’s taken worse. And the parsonage is +in such a mess still with the painters that +I’ve moved over to the Forest Queen Hotel. +But you can come there too––it’s kept by an +officer’s widow, you know, and is most quiet +and respectable––and you’ll be almost as +comfortable waiting there till your transportation +comes along as you would be if I +could take you home.”</p> +<p>Hill said hearing the Forest Queen talked +about as quiet and respectable, and Santa +Fé’s so sort of off-hand making an officer’s +widow out of old Tenderfoot Sal, set him to +shaking at such a rate he had to get to where +there was a keg of railroad spikes and set +down on it and hold his sides with both +hands.</p> +<p>Santa Fé turned to the old gent, Hill said––talking +as polite as a Pullman conductor––and +told him since he’d been so kind to his +unhappy niece he hoped he’d come along +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span> +with ’em to the hotel too––where he’d be +more comfortable, Santa Fé said, getting +something to eat and drink than he would +be kicking around the deepo waiting till +they’d filled in the wash-out and the train +could start.</p> +<p>Hill said the Hen give Santa Fé a queer +sort of look at that, as much as to ask him if +he was dead sure he had the cards for that +lead. Santa Fé give her a look back again, +as much as to say he knew what was and +what wasn’t on the table; and then he went +on to the old gent, speaking pleasant, telling +him likely it might be a little bit noisy over +at the hotel––doing her best, he said, Mrs. +Major Rogers couldn’t help having noise +sometimes, things being so rough and tumble +out there on the frontier; but he had a +private room for his study, where he wrote +his sermons, he said, and got into it by a +side door––and so he guessed things wouldn’t +be too bad.</p> +<p>That seemed to make the Hen easy, Hill +said; and away the three of ’em went together +to the Forest Queen. Hill knowed it +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span> +was straight enough about the private room +and the side door––Santa Fé had it to do +business in for himself, on the quiet, when he +didn’t have to deal; and Hill’d known of a +good many folks who’d gone in that private +room by that side door and hadn’t come out +again till Santa Fé’d scooped their pile. But +it wasn’t no business of his, he said; and he +said he was glad to get shut of ’em so he +might have a chance to let out the laughing +that fairly was hurting his insides.</p> +<p>As they was going away from the deepo, +Hill said, he heard Santa Fé telling the old +gent he was sorry it was getting so dark––as +he’d like to take him round so he could see +the parsonage, and the new church they’d +just finished building and was going to put +an organ in as soon as they’d raised more +funds; but it wasn’t worth while going out +of their way, he said, because they wouldn’t +show to no sort of advantage with the light +so bad. As the only church in Palomitas was +the Mexican mud one about two hundred +years old, and as the nearest thing to a parsonage +was the Padre’s house that Denver +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span> +Jones had rented and had his faro-bank in, +Hill said he guessed Charley acted sensible +in not trying to show the old gent around +that part of the town.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>Hill said after he’d got his supper he +thought he’d come down to the deepo and +sort of wait around there; on the chance +he’d ketch on––when the old gent come over +to the train––to what Santa Fé and the Hen’d +been putting up on him. Sure enough, he +did.</p> +<p>Along about ten o’clock a starting-order +come down––the track-gang by that time +having the wash-out so near fixed it would +be fit by the time the train got there to go +across; and Wood––he was the agent, Wood +was––sent word over to the Forest Queen to +the old gent, who was the only Pullman passenger, +he’d better be coming along.</p> +<p>In five minutes or so he showed up. He +wasn’t in the best shape, Hill said, and +Santa Fé and the Hen each of ’em was +giving him an arm; though what he seemed +to need more’n arms, Hill said, was legs––the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span> +ones he had, judging from the way he +couldn’t manage ’em, not being in first-class +order and working bad. But he didn’t make +no exhibition of himself, and talked right +enough––only he spoke sort of short and +scrappy––and the three of ’em was as friendly +together as friendly could be. Hill said +he didn’t think it was any hurt to listen, +things being the way they was, and he edged +up close to ’em––while they stood waiting +for the porter to light up the Pullman––and +though he couldn’t quite make sense of all +they was saying he did get on to enough of +it to size up pretty close how they’d put the +old gent through.</p> +<p>“Although it is for my struggling church, +a weak blade of grass in the desert,” Santa +Fé was saying when Hill got the range of ’em, +“I cannot but regret having taken from you +your splendid contribution to our parish fund +in so unusual, I might almost say in so unseemly, +a way. That I have returned to +you a sufficient sum to enable you to prosecute +your journey to its conclusion places +you under no obligation to me. Indeed, I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span> +could not have done less––considering the +very liberal loan that you have made to my +poor niece to enable her to return quickly to +her helpless babe. As I hardly need tell you, +that loan will be returned promptly––as soon +as Mrs. Captain Chiswick gets East and is +able to disentangle her affairs.”</p> +<p>“Indeed it will,” the Hen put in. “My +generous benefactor shall be squared with if +I have to sell my clothes!”</p> +<p>“Mustn’t think of such a thing. Catch +cold,” the old gent said. “Pleasure’s all +mine to assist such noble a woman in her +unmerited distress. And now I shall have +happiness, and same time sorrow, to give +her fatherly kiss for farewell.”</p> +<p>The Hen edged away a little, Hill said, +and Santa Fé shortened his grip a little on +the old gent’s arm––so his fatherly kissing +missed fire. But he didn’t seem to notice, +and said to Santa Fé: “Never knew a minister +know cards like you. Wonderful! And +wonderful luck what you held. Played cards +a good deal myself. Never could play like +you!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span></div> +<p>Santa Fé steadied the old gent, Hill said, +and said to him in a kind of explaining way: +“As I told you, my dear sir, in my wild +college days––before I got light on my sinful +path and headed for the ministry––I was +reckoned something out of the common as a +card-player; and what the profane call luck +used to be with me all the time. Of course, +since I humbly––but, I trust, helpfully––took +to being a worker in the vineyard, I have +not touched those devil’s picture-books; nor +should I have touched them to-night but for +my hope that a little game would help to +while away your time of tedious waiting. +As for playing for money, that would have +been quite impossible had it not been for my +niece’s suggestion that my winnings––in case +such came to me––should be added to our +meagre parish fund. I trust that I have not +done wrong in yielding to my impulse. At +least I have to sustain me the knowledge +that if you, my dear sir, are somewhat the +worse, my impoverished church is much the +better for our friendly game of chance.”</p> +<p>Hill said hearing Santa Fé Charley talking +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span> +about chance in any game where he had the +dealing was so funny it was better’n going +to the circus. But the old gent took it right +enough––and the Hen added on: “Yes, +Uncle Charley can get the organ he’s been +wanting so badly for his church, now. And +I’m sure we’ll all think of how we owe its +sweet music to you every time we hear it +played!”––and she edged up to him again, +so he could hold her hand. “It must make +you very, very happy, sir,” she kept on, +speaking kind of low and gentle, but not +coming as close as he wanted her, “to go +about the world doing such generous-hearted +good deeds! I’m sure I’d like to thank you +enough––only there aren’t any fit words to +thank you in––for your noble-hearted generous +goodness to me!”</p> +<p>The old gent hauled away on her hand, Hill +said, trying to get her closer, and said back to +her: “Words quite unnecessary. Old man’s +heart filled with pleasure obliging such dear +child. Never mind about words. Accept +old man’s fatherly kiss, like daughter, for +good-bye.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span></div> +<p>But he missed it that time too, Hill said––and +Hill said, speaking in his careless cuss-word +way, it was pretty damn rough on him +what poor luck in fatherly kisses he seemed +to have––because just then the train conductor +swung his lantern and sung out: +“All aboard!”</p> +<p>That ended things. Before the old gent +knowed what had got him, Santa Fé and +the Hen had boosted him up the steps onto +the platform of the Pullman––where the Pullman +conductor got a grip on him just in time +to save him from spilling––and then the train +pulled out: with the Pullman conductor keeping +him steady, and he throwing back good-bye +kisses to the Hen with both hands.</p> +<p>Hill said the Hen and Santa Fé kept quiet +till the hind-lights showed beyond the end +of the deepo platform: and then the Hen +grabbed Santa Fé round the neck and just +hung onto him––so full of laugh she was limp––while +they both roared. And Hill said he +roared too. It was the most comical bit of +business, he said, he’d tumbled to in all his +born days!</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span></div> +<p>It wasn’t till the train got clean round the +curve above the station, Hill said, that +Charley and the Hen could pull ’emselves +together so they could talk. Then the Hen +let a-go of Santa Fé’s neck and said comical––speaking +kind of precise and toney, like as if +she was an officer’s wife sure enough: “You +had better return to your study, dear Uncle +Charley, and finish writing that sermon you +said we’d interrupted you in that was about +caring for the sheep as well as the lambs!”</p> +<p>And then they went off together yelling, +Hill said, over to the Forest Queen.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span> +<a name='III_HARTS_NEPHEWS_HOLDUP' id='III_HARTS_NEPHEWS_HOLDUP'></a> +<h2>III</h2> +<h3>HART’S NEPHEW’S HOLD-UP</h3> +</div> +<p>Hill always said he counted on +coming into Palomitas some +day on one of his mules bareback––leaving +the other five +dead or stampeded, and the +coach stalled somewhere––and bringing his +hair only because road-agents hadn’t no +use for hair and his wasn’t easy to get anyhow, +he being so bald on top there wasn’t +nothing to ketch a-hold of if anybody wanted +to lift what little there was along the sides. +Of course that was just Hill’s comical way +of putting it; but back of his fool talk there +was hard sense––as there was apt to be back +of Hill’s talk every time. He knew blame +well what he was up against, Hill did; and +if he hadn’t been more’n extra sandy he +never could a-held down his job.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span></div> +<p>Till Hill started his coach up, the only +way to get across to Santa Fé from Palomitas +was to go a-horseback or walk. Both ways +was unhealthy; and the coach, being pretty +near as liable to hold-ups, wasn’t much +healthier. It had to go slow, the coach had––that +was a powerful mean road after you +left Pojuaque and got in among the sandhills––and +you never was sure when some +of them bunches of scrub-cedar wasn’t going +to wake up and take to pumping lead into +you. Only a nervy man, like Hill was, ever +could have took the contract; and Hill said +he got so rattled sometimes––when it happened +he hadn’t no passengers and was going +it alone in among them sandhills––he +guessed it was only because he had so little +hair to turn anything it didn’t turn gray.</p> +<p>Hill slept at the Forest Queen, the nights +he was in Palomitas––he drove one way +one day and the other way the next––and +the boys made things cheerfuller for him by +all the time rigging him about the poor show +he had for sticking long at his job. He’d +look well, they said, a-laying out there in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span> +the sage-brush plugged full of lead waiting +for his friends to call for him; and they asked +him how he thought he’d enjoy being a free-lunch +counter for coyotes; and they told +him he’d better write down on a piece of +paper anything he’d like particular to have +painted on the board––and they just generally +devilled him all round. Hill didn’t +mind the fool talk they give him––he always +was a good-natured fellow, Hill was––and he +mostly managed to hit back at ’em, one way +or another, so they’d come out about even +and end up with drinks for all hands.</p> +<p>The only one who really didn’t like that +sort of talk, and always kicked when the +boys started in on it, was the Sage-Brush +Hen. She said it was a mean shame to +make a joke about a thing like that, seeing +there wasn’t a day when it mightn’t happen; +and it wasn’t like an ordinary shooting-match, +she said, that come along in the +regular way and both of you took your +chances; and sometimes she’d get that mad +and worried she’d go right smack out of the +room.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span></div> +<p>You see, the Hen always thought a heap of +Hill––they having got to be such friends +together that first day when he brought her +over to Palomitas on the coach and helped +her put up her rig on the old gent from +Washington; and, back of her liking Hill +specially, she really was about as good-natured +a woman as ever lived. Except Hart’s +nephew––she did just hate Hart’s nephew, +who was a chump if ever there was one––she +always was as pleasant as pie with everybody; +and if any of the boys was hurt––like +when Denver Jones got that jag in his +shoulder rumpussing with Santa Fé Charley; +and she more friends with Charley, of course, +than with anybody else––she’d turn right in +and help all she knowed how.</p> +<p>But it’s a cold fact, for all her being so +good-natured and obliging, that wherever +that Hen was there was a circus. It was on +her account Charley and Denver had their +little difficulty; and, one way and another, +there was more shooting-scrapes about her +than about all the other girls put together +in all the dance-halls in town. Why, it got +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span> +to be so that one corner of the new cemetery +out on the mesa was called her private lot. +It wasn’t her fault, she always said; and, in +one way, it wasn’t––she always being willing +to be sociable and friendly all round. But, +all the same, wherever that Sage-Brush Hen +was, there was dead sure to be an all-right +cyclone.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>One night when the boys at the Forest +Queen was rigging Hill worse’n usual, and the +Hen all the time getting madder and madder, +Santa Fé Charley come into the game himself. +Knowing how down the Hen was on such +doings he usually didn’t. I guess he and +she’d been having some sort of a ruction +that day, and he wanted to get even with +her. Anyhow, in he come––and the way he +played his hand just got the Hen right up +on her ear.</p> +<p>What Charley did was to start a thirty-day +pool on Hill as to when it would happen. +Chances was a dollar apiece––the dates for +thirty days ahead being written on bits of +paper, and the bits crumpled up and put +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span> +into a hat, and you took one––and the pool +went to whoever got the right date, with +consolation stakes to whoever got the day +before and the day after. Charley made a +comical speech, after the drawing, telling +the boys it was what you might call a quick +return investment, and he guessed all of +’em had got left who’d drawed dates more’n +a week away. Hill took it all right, same +as usual; and just to show ’em he didn’t +bear no malice he bought a chance himself. +He was one of the best-natured fellows +ever got born, Hill was. There wasn’t +no Apache in him nowhere. He was white +all the way through. So he bought his +chance, that way, and then he give it to +the Hen––telling her if he pulled the pot +himself it wouldn’t be much good to him, +and saying he hoped she’d get it if anybody +did, and asking her––if she did get +it––to have some extry nice touches put on +the board.</p> +<p>Well, will you believe it? When Hill give +that Hen his chance she begun to cry over +it! She knew it wouldn’t do to cry hard––seeing +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span> +what a mess it would make with her +color when the tears got running––and so she +pulled herself up quick and mopped her eyes +dry with her pocket-handkerchief. And then +she let out with all four legs at once, like a +Colorado mule, and everlastingly gave it to +all hands! It was just like the Hen, being so +good-hearted, and thinking so much of Hill, +to fire up like that about Santa Fé’s pool on +when he’d get his medicine; and all the boys +knowed that beside the address she was +making to the whole congregation Santa Fé +was going to get another, and a worse one, +when she had him off where she could play +out to him a lone hand. But the boys +didn’t mind the jawing she give ’em––except +they was a little ashamed, knowing putting +such a rig on Hill was a mean thing to do––and +I guess the whole business would have +ended right there (only for the dressing-down +Santa Fé was to get later) if Hart’s nephew +hadn’t taken it into his head to chip in––being +drunker’n usual, and a fool anyway––and +so started what turned out to be a fresh game.</p> +<p>I do suppose Hart’s nephew was about +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span> +the meanest ever got born. Bill Hart was +a good enough fellow himself, and how he +ever come to have such a God-forsaken +chump for a nephew was more’n anybody +could tell. Things must have been powerful +bad, I reckon, on his mother’s side. He +was one of the blowing kind, with nothing +behind his blow; and his feet was that tender +they wasn’t fit to walk on anything harder’n +fresh mush. The boys all the time was putting +up rigs on him; and he’d go around +talking so big about what he meant to do to +get even with ’em you’d think he was going +to clean out the whole town. But he took +mighty good care to do his tall talking promiscuous: +after making the mistake of trying +it once on a little man he thought he +could manage––a real peaceable little feller +that looked like he wouldn’t stand up to a +kitten––and getting his nose and his mouth +and his eyes all mashed into one. The little +man apologized to the rest for doing it that +way, saying he’d a-been ashamed of himself +all the rest of his life if he’d gone for a thing +like that with his gun.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span></div> +<p>Well, it was this Hart’s nephew––like +enough he had some sort of a name that +belonged to him, but he wasn’t worth the +trouble of finding out what it was––who +chipped in when the Hen took to her tirading, +and so give things a new turn. Standing +up staggery, and talking in his drunk fool +way, he told her the road across to Santa +Fé was as safe as a Sunday-school; and he +said he’d be glad to be in Hill’s boots and +drive that coach himself, seeing what an +interest she took in stage-drivers; and he +asked her, sort of nasty, how she managed +to get along for company when Hill was at +the other end of his run. Hart’s nephew was +drunker’n usual that night, same as I’ve said, +or even he’d a-knowed he’d likely get into +trouble talking that way to the Hen.</p> +<p>For about a minute things looked real +serious. The Hen straightened right up, +and on the back of her neck––where it +showed, she not being fixed red there to +start with––she got as red as canned tomatoes; +and some of the boys moved a little, +sort of uneasy; and Santa Fé reached out +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span> +over the piles of chips for his gun. He didn’t +get it, because the Hen saw what he was +doing and stopped him by looking at him +quick––and knowing what Charley was when +it come to shooting, you’ll know the Hen +sent that look at him about as fast as looks +can go! The game had stopped right there; +and it was so quiet in the room you’d a-thought +the snoring of the two drunks asleep +on benches in one corner was a thunder-storm +coming down the cañon!</p> +<p>Of course what we all expected the Hen +to do was to wipe up the floor with Hart’s +nephew by giving him such a talking to––she +could use language, the Hen could, when she +started in at it––as would make him sorrier’n +usual he’d ever been born; and I guess, from +the looks of her, that was what at the first +jump she meant to do. But she was a quick-thinking +one, the Hen was, and she had a +way of getting more funny notions into that +good-looking head of hers than any other +woman that ever walked around on this earth +alive––and so she give us all a real jolt by +playing out cards we wasn’t expecting at all. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span> +Just as sudden as a wink, she sort of twitched +and twinkled––same as she always did when +she was up to some new bit of deviltry––and +when she set her stamps to going she talked +like as if she was real pleased. She didn’t +look, though, as good-natured as she talked––keeping +on being straightened up, and having +a kind of setness in her jaws and a snappiness +in them big black eyes of hers that +made everybody but Hart’s nephew, who +was too drunk to know anything, dead sure +she still was mad all the way through.</p> +<p>“If he’ll lend ’em to you, and I guess he +will, why don’t you get into Mr. Hill’s +boots?” she said to Hart’s nephew. And +then she fetched up a nice sort of smile, and +said to him real friendly-sounding: “I do +like stage-drivers, and that’s a fact––and +there’s no telling how pleasant I’ll make +things for you if you’ll take the coach across +to Santa Fé to-morrow over that Sunday-school +road! Will you do it?” And then +the Hen give him one of them fetching looks +of hers, and asked him over: “Will you do +it––to oblige <i>me</i>?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span></div> +<p>Now that was more words at one time than +the Hen had dropped on Hart’s nephew since +he struck the camp; and as the few he’d ever +got from her mostly hadn’t been nice ones, +and these sounding to him––he being drunk––like +as if they was real good-natured, he +was that pleased he didn’t know what to do. +Of course he was dead set on the Hen, same +as everybody else was––she truly was a +powerful fine woman––and it just was funny +to see how he tried to steady himself on his +legs gentlemanly, and was all over fool smiles.</p> +<p>So he said back to the Hen––speaking slow, +to keep his words from tumbling all over each +other––he’d just drive that coach across to +Santa Fé a-hooping if Hill’d lend it to him; +and then he asked Hill if he might have it––and +told him he could trust him to handle it +in good shape, because everybody knowed he +was a real daisy at driving mules.</p> +<p>For a fact, Hart’s nephew did manage +well at mule-driving. It was one of the +blame few things that fool knowed how to +do. Denver Jones allowed it was because +he was related to ’em––on the father’s side.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span></div> +<p>“Just for this once, Mr. Hill,” said the +Hen, speaking coaxy. And she got her head +round a little––so Hart’s nephew couldn’t see +what she was doing––and give Hill a wink +to come into the game.</p> +<p>Hill didn’t know what in the world the +Hen was up to––nobody ever did know what +that Hen was up to when once she got started––but +he reckoned he could take it back in +the morning if he didn’t think what she +wanted would answer, so in he come: telling +Hart’s nephew he might have the coach to +do anything (Hill was a kind of a careless +talker) he damn pleased with; and saying he’d +have it hitched up and ready down at the +deepo next morning, same as usual, so he +could start right off when the Denver train +come in.</p> +<p>When things was settled, all quick that +way, Hart’s nephew took to squirming––he +seeing, drunk as he was, he’d bit off a blame +sight more’n he cared to chew. But with the +Hen right after him––and Hill and all the +rest of the boys backing her, they being sure +she’d dandy cards up her sleeve for the queer +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span> +game she was playing––he couldn’t make +nothing by all his squirms. The boys got at +him and told him anybody could see he was +afraid; and the Hen got at him and told him +anybody could see he wasn’t, and she said +she knew he was about the bravest man +alive; and Hill got at him and told him the +road had improved so, lately, the nearest to +road-agents you ever seen on it was burros +and cotton-tail rabbits; and all of ’em together +kept getting more drinks in him right +along. So the upshot of it was: first Hart’s +nephew stopped his squirming; and then he +took to telling what a holy wonder he was at +mule-driving; and then he went to blowing +the biggest kind––till he got so he couldn’t +talk no longer––about what he’d do in the +shooting line if any road-agents come around +trying their monkey-shine hold-ups on <i>him</i>! +So it ended, good enough, by their getting +him fixed tight in his hole.</p> +<p>The boys kept things going with him pretty +late that night, and when he showed up in +the morning at the deepo––a delegation seeing +to it he got there, and Hill having the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span> +coach all ready for him––he still had on him +a fairly sizable jag. But he’d sobered up +enough––having slept quite a little, and +soaked his head at the railroad tank––to +want to try all he knew how to spill himself +out of his job. It took all the Hen could do––the +Hen had got up early and come down +to the deepo a-purpose to attend to him––and +all the boys could do helping her, to get +him up on that coach-box and boosted off +out of town.</p> +<p>He was that nervous he was shaking all +over; and what made him nervouser was +having no passengers––nobody for Santa Fé +having come in on the Denver train. It was +just a caution to see his shooting outfit! The +box of the coach looked like it was a gun-shop––being +piled up with two Winchesters +and a double-barrelled shot-gun (the shot-gun, +he said, was to cripple anybody he +didn’t think it was needful to kill); and +beside that he had a machete some Mexican +lent him hooked on to his belt, and along +with it a brace of derringers and two forty-fives. +Hill was the only one who didn’t +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span> +laugh fit to kill himself over that layout. +Hill said Hart’s nephew done just right to +take along all the guns he could get a-hold +of; and Hill said he’d attended to the proper +loading of every one of them weepons himself.</p> +<p>At last––with all the boys laughing away +and firing fool talk at him, and the Hen +keeping him up to the collar by going on +about how brave he was––he did manage to +whip up his mules and start off. Sick was +no name for him––and he was so scared stiff +he looked like he was about ready to cry. +After he’d got down the slope, and across the +bridge over the Rio Grande, and was walking +his mules on that first little stretch of sandy +road on the way to La Cañada, we could see +him reaching down and fussing over his layout +of guns.</p> +<p>For a cold fact, there was a right smart +chance that Hart’s nephew––and ’specially +because his fool luck made most things come +to him contrary––really might run himself +into a hold-up; and, if he did, it was like as +not his chips might get called in. For all +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span> +Hill’s funny talk about meeting nothing +worse’n burros and cotton-tail rabbits, that +road was a bad road––and things was liable +to occur. Hill himself was taking his chances, +and he blame well knowed it, every day. +But it was the sense of the meeting that if a +hold-up of that coach attended by fatalities +was coming, it couldn’t come at a better time +than when Hart’s nephew was on the box––the +feeling being general that Hart’s nephew +was one that could be spared. I guess Bill +Hart felt just the same about it as the rest +of us––leastways, he didn’t strain himself +any trying to keep his nephew home.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>Things went kind of nervous that day at +Palomitas. All the boys seemed to have a +feeling, somehow, there was going to be happenings; +and we all just sort of idled round +waiting for ’em––taking more drinks ’n usual, +and in spite of the drinks getting every +minute lower and lower in our minds. Except +the day Hart’s aunt spent with him, +and Santa Fé Charley run the kindergarten, +I reckon it was the quietest day we ever went +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span> +through––at least till we got along to the +clean-up that turned Palomitas into what +some of us felt was a blame sight too much +of a Sunday-school town.</p> +<p>One reason why we all was so serious was because +the Sage-Brush Hen––who started most +of what happened––didn’t show up as usual; +and all hands got a real jolt when some of +the boys went off to the Forest Queen to ask +about her, and old Tenderfoot Sal told ’em +she was laying down in her room and wasn’t +feeling well. The Hen being always an out-and-out +hustler, and hard as an Indian pony, +her not being well shook us up bad. Everybody +was friends with her, same as she was +friends with everybody––even when she got +into one of her tantrums, and took to jawing +you, you couldn’t help liking her––and knowing +she wasn’t feeling like she ought to feel +put a big lot more of a damper on all hands. +So we just kept on taking drinks and getting +miserabler with ’em––and feeling all the time +surer something was coming bouncing out at +us from round the corner, and wondering +what kind of a stir-up we was likely to have.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span></div> +<p>It was along about four o’clock in the +afternoon the cyclone struck us; and it was +such a small-sized one, when we did get it, +we didn’t know whether to laugh or swear. +But the cyclone himself didn’t think there +was anything small about him: being Hart’s +nephew––so scared to death all the few wits +he ever had was knocked clean out of him––who +come into Palomitas, white as white-wash, +riding bareback one of the coach +mules.</p> +<p>He just sort of rolled off the mule, in front +of the Forest Queen, and went in to the bar +and got four drinks in him before he could +speak a word––and then he said he’d been +held up at the Barranca Grande by about +two hundred road-agents who’d opened up +on him and killed all the mules except the +one he’d got away on; and his getting away +at all, he said, was only because he’d put up +such a fight he’d scared ’em––and after that +because they couldn’t hit him when once he +was off, and had the mule going on a dead +run. Then he took two more drinks, and +told his story all over again; and as it was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span> +about the same story both times––and he so +scared, and by the time he told it over again +so set up with his drinks, it didn’t seem +likely he’d sense enough left to be lying––the +boys allowed like enough it was true.</p> +<p>What he had to tell––except he piled on +more road-agents than was needed––was +about reasonable. He said he’d done well +enough as far as Pojuaque––where he’d had +his dinner and changed mules, same as usual, +at old man Bouquet’s. And after he’d left +Pojuaque he’d got along all right, he said, +except he had to go slow through the sandhills, +till he come to the Barranca Grande.</p> +<p>It’s a bad place, that barranca is. The +road goes sharp down into it, and then sharp +up out of it––and both banks so steep you +want all the brakes you’ve got to get to the +bottom of it, and more mules than you’re +likely to have to get to the top on the other +side.</p> +<p>Well, Hart’s nephew said he’d just got the +coach down to the bottom of the barranca––he’d +took the last of the slope at a run, he +said, and was licking away at his mules for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span> +all he was worth to start ’em up the far side––when +the road-agents opened on him, being +hid in among the cedar-bushes, from the +top of the bank and from both sides of the +trail. You never seen such a blaze of shooting +in all your life, Hart’s nephew said; and +he said before he’d a chance to get a gun up +all his mules was hit but one. He said he +jumped quick from the box, taking both +Winchesters and the shot-gun with him, +and having his guns and the derringers in his +belt beside, and got behind the one mule that +hadn’t been downed and opened up on the +bushes where the smoke was and let go as +hard as he knowed how. He said he must +a-killed more’n twenty of ’em, he guessed, +judging by the yelling and groaning, and by +the way they slacked up on their fire. Their +slacking that way give him a chance, he said, +and he took it––cutting the mule loose from +the harness with one hand, while he kept on +blazing away over her back with the other; +then letting ’em have it from both hands for +a minute, from what guns he had left that +wasn’t empty, to sort of paralyze ’em; and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span> +then getting quick on the mule’s back and +starting her down the barranca on a dead +run.</p> +<p>He had balls buzzing all about him, he +said, till he got out of sight around a turn in +the barranca; and he said before he made +that turn he looked back once and saw a big +feller up on top of the bank letting off at +him as hard as he could go. Just to show +he still had fight in him, he said, he let off +back at him with his two derringers––which +was all he had left to shoot with––and he +was pretty sure, though of course it was only +luck did it with the mule bouncing him so, +the big feller went down. He was a tremendous +tall man, he said; and he guessed he was +a Greaser, seeing he had a big black beard +and was dressed in Greaser clothes.</p> +<p>He said he didn’t mind owning up he was +scared bad while he was in it; but he said he +guessed anybody would a-been scared with +all them fellers shooting away at him––and, +as he’d made as good a fight of it as he +knowed how, he didn’t think he was to be +blamed for ending by running from such a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span> +crowd. He kept on down the barranca for +about two miles, he said, till he struck the +cross-trail to Tesuque; and he headed north +on that till he got to Pojuaque––where he give +the mule a rest, she was blowed all to bits, the +mule was, he said; and he got some of old +man Bouquet’s wine in him, feeling pretty +well blowed to bits himself; and then he come +along home.</p> +<p>Well, that seemed a straight enough +story. The only thing in it you really could +pick on––except the number of road-agents, +he only having seen one, and the rest being +his scared guesswork––was the mule not +being hit while he was doing all that firing +over the back of her. But all fights has +their queer chances in ’em; and that was a +chance that might a-happened, same as +others. Of course, the one big general thing +that didn’t seem likely was that such a runt +as Hart’s nephew should have stood up the +way he said he did to as much as one road-agent––let +alone to the half-dozen or so that +like enough had got at him. But even a +thing like Hart’s nephew sometimes will put +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span> +up a fight when it’s scared so bad it really +don’t more’n half know what it’s doing––and +the boys allowed he might have done his +fighting that way.</p> +<p>That the size of his scare had been big +enough to make him do a’most anything +showed up from the way he kept on being +scared after it was all over––he coming into +Palomitas looking like a wet white rag when, +by his own showing, he’d been out of reach +of anybody’s hurting him for four or five +hours anyway, and had had a chance to cool +off at Pojuaque while he was loading in old +man Bouquet’s wine. And so, taking the +story by and large, the boys allowed that +likely most of it was true; and some of ’em +even went so far as to say maybe Hart’s +nephew wasn’t more’n half rotten, after all.</p> +<p>It was a good story to hear, anyway; and +everybody was sorry the Hen wasn’t around +to hear it. But when some of the boys tried +to rout her out, Tenderfoot Sal stood ’em +off savage––telling ’em to go about their +business, and the Hen’s head was aching +bad. So the boys had to take it out in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span> +making Hart’s nephew keep on telling all +he had to tell over and over; and he was glad +of the chance to, and did––till he got so +many drinks in him he couldn’t tell anything; +and then his uncle, with Shorty Smith helping, +took him off home.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>Next morning, having pretty much slept +himself sober, Hart’s nephew went cavorting +around Palomitas––that little runt did––like +he was about ten foot tall! He had the whole +thing over, in the course of the day, a dozen +times or more; and as he kept on telling +it––now he was sober enough to add things +on––it got to be about the biggest fight +with road-agents that ever was. The thing +that was biggest was the one man he allowed +he’d really seen. Why, Goliath of Gath +wasn’t in it with that fellow, according to +Hart’s nephew! And he was that desperate +and dangerous to look at, he said, not many +men would a-had the nerve to try at him +with only a derringer––and, what was more, +to bring him down. It was well along in the +afternoon before we got it for a fact that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span> +Hart’s nephew really had killed the Greaser. +The thing growed that way––from his first +telling how he thought he’d hit him––until it +ended with the Greaser giving a yell like a +stuck pig; and then staggering and throwing +his arms up; and then rolling over and over +down the side of the barranca to the bottom +of it––with his goose cooked all the way +through!</p> +<p>We was all down at the deepo waiting for +the Denver train to pull out, same as usual, +while Hart’s nephew was doing his tallest +talking––and while he was hard at it somebody +jumped up and sung out the Santa Fé +coach was coming along on the other side +of the river from Santa Cruz. Well, that +was about the last thing anybody was expecting––and +everybody hustled up off the +barrels and boxes where they was a-setting +and looked with all their eyes.</p> +<p>Sure enough, there the old coach was––just +as it always was, about that time of +day––coming along as natural as you please. +After a while, it keeping on getting nearer, +we could see it was old Hill himself up on the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span> +box driving his mules in good shape; and +when he got along near the bridge we could +hear him swearing at ’em––Hill did use +terrible bad language to them mules––in +just his ordinary way. Then he rattled the +mules over the bridge and brought ’em a-clipping +up the slope this side of it; and then +in another minute he pulled right up at the +deepo platform where we all was. Hill was +laughing all over as he come up to us, and so +was a Mexican who was setting on the box +with him––a nice tidy little chap, with a +powerful big black beard on him––and Hill +sung out: “Have you boys heard about the +hold-up?” And then he and the little +Mexican got to laughing so it was a wonder +they didn’t fall off.</p> +<p>Nobody was thinking nothing about Hart’s +nephew––till he let off a yell and sung out: +“That’s the man held the coach up! Get a +bead on him with your guns!” And he got +his own gun out––and like enough would +a-done some fool thing with it if Santa Fé +Charley, who was right by him, hadn’t +smacked him and jerked it out of his hand.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span></div> +<p>Santa Fé smacked so’s to hurt him; and +he put his hand up to his face and said, +kind of whimpery: “What are you hitting +me like that for, Charley? I ain’t done nothing. +I tell you that man on the box with +Hill is the one I was held up by yesterday. +He’s dangerous. If we don’t get a-hold of +him quick he’ll be doing something to us +with his gun!” And Hart’s nephew a’most +broke out crying––being all worked up, and +Santa Fé having smacked him blame hard.</p> +<p>At that, Denver Jones cut in with: “I +thought you said the one you was held up +by was more’n fourteen foot high, and you +killed him? This man ain’t big enough to +hold up a baby-carriage with you in it––and +he’s sure enough alive. What are you +giving us––you blame fool?”</p> +<p>There’s no telling what kind of an answer +Denver would a-got from Hart’s nephew––for +he hadn’t a chance to give him no answer +at all. Just then Hill did the talking, and +what Hill said was: “Boys, he’s dead right +about it. This here’s the bad man that +held the coach up––and as I was there, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span> +seen it done, and drove the coach on with +five mules to Santa Fé afterwards, I guess I +know!” And Hill, and the little Mexican +with him, just roared.</p> +<p>When Hill could talk for laughing, he went +on: “I’ll own up right now, boys, I was +extry over-precautious when I fixed up with +empty shells that gun-shop Hart’s nephew +took along on the coach when he started out +with it. For all the harm he done with them +guns, I might just as well a-left ’em loaded +the usual way. He was that scared when +this here gigantic ruffian stopped him––I +just happened to be a-setting in among the +cedar-bushes at the time, smoking a seegar +and looking on sort of casual––he couldn’t +do nothing more’n yell out he wasn’t going +to shoot, and not to murder him; and then +down he jumped from the box––me a-smoking +away looking at him, and this here ruffian +a-shooting his Winchester across the top +of the coach to where he said he thought he +seen a jack-rabbit––and cut out the near +wheeler; and then he scrambled up anyhow +on that mule’s back, and away he went down +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span> +the barranca as hard as hell!” (Hill oughtn’t +to have said that word. But he was careless +in his talk, Hill was, and he did).</p> +<p>“But Hart’s nephew being scared that +way,” Hill went on, a’most choking, “don’t +count one way or the other when you get +down to the facts. It was this here dangerous +devil that done that wicked deed, and he done +it all alone by his dangerous self. At the +risk of my life, gentlemen, I’ve got a-hold of +him to bring him to justice, and here he is. +And I guess the sooner we yank him up to +the usual telegraph-pole, and so get shut of +him, the sooner it’ll be safe for folks to travel +these roads. He’s the most dangerous I +ever see,” said Hill, and by that time Hill +was so near busted with his laughing he was +purple; “and what makes him such a particular +holy terror is he goes disguised!” +And then––choking so he could hardly speak +plain––Hill whipped round to the little Mexican +and says to him: “Get your disguise +off of you, you murdersome critter! Get it +off, I say, and give these gentlemen a look +at the terrible wicked face of you––before +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span> +you and that telegraph-pole gets to being +friends!”</p> +<p>And then the little Mexican switched his +big black beard off––and right smack there +before us was the Sage-Brush Hen! You +never heard such a yell as the boys give in all +your born days!</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>And you never in all your born days saw +such goings on as there was that night at +the Forest Queen! Everybody in Palomitas +was right there. The other banks and bars +hadn’t a soul left in ’em but the dealers and +the drink-slingers––and they, not having +nothing to do at home, just shut up shop +and come along too. All the girls from all +the dance-halls showed up, the Hen being +real down popular with ’em––which told well +for her––and they wanting to see the fun. +Cherry happened to be down from his ranch +that night; and Becker got wind of what was +up and footed it across from Santa Cruz de +la Cañada; and word was sent to the Elbogen +brothers––they was real clever young fellows, +them two Germans––and over they come +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span> +a-kiting on their buck-board from San Juan. +I guess it was about the biggest jam the Forest +Queen ever had.</p> +<p>Hart’s nephew was the only one around +the place who hung back a little, but he got +there all right––being fished out of an empty +flour-barrel, where he’d hid under the counter +in his uncle’s store, and brought along by the +invitation committee sent to look for him all +dabbed over with flour.</p> +<p>Some thought the way they used Hart’s +nephew that night was just a little mite too +hard lines––he not being let to have as much +as a single drink in him, and so kept plumb +sober while the Hen give him his medicine; +but all hands allowed––after his sassy talk to +her––he didn’t get no more’n she’d a right to +give. She just went at him like a blister, the +Hen did; and she blistered him worse because +she did it in her own funny way––telling him +she did just dote on stage-drivers, and if he +really wanted to please her he’d take Hill’s +job regular; and leading the boys up to him +and introducing him, lady-like, as “the hold-up +hero”; and asking him to please to tell her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span> +all about that fourteen-foot road-agent he’d +killed; and just rubbing the whole thing in on +him every way she knowed how. Before +the Hen got done with him he was about the +sickest man, Hart’s nephew was, you ever +seen! But I guess it learned him quite a +little about how when he talked to ladies he’d +better be polite.</p> +<p>Fun wasn’t no name that night for that +Hen! She kept on wearing her Mexican +clothes, and she did look real down cute in +’em; and she’d got a God-forsaken old rusty +pepper-box six-shooter from somewheres, +and went flourishing it about saying it was +what she’d held up the coach with; and in between +times, when she wasn’t deviling Hart’s +nephew, she’d go round the room drawing +beads on the boys with her pepper-box, and +making out she was dangerous by putting +her big black beard on, and standing up in +attitudes so the boys might see, she said, +how road-agenty she looked and bad and +bold! Why, the Hen did act so comical +that night all hands pretty near died with +their laugh!</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span> +<a name='IV_SANTA_F_CHARLEYS_KINDERGARTEN' id='IV_SANTA_F_CHARLEYS_KINDERGARTEN'></a> +<h2>IV</h2> +<h3>SANTA FÉ CHARLEY’S KINDERGARTEN</h3> +</div> +<p>When Bill Hart, who was a +good fellow and kept the principal +store in Palomitas, got +word his aunt in Vermont was +coming out to pay him a visit––it +being too late to stop her, and he knowing +he’d have to worry the thing through +somehow till he could start her back East +again––he was the worst broke-up man you +ever seen.</p> +<p>“Great Scott! Joe,” Hart said, when he +was telling Cherry about it, “Palomitas ain’t +no sort of a town to bring aunts to––and it’s +about the last town I know of where Aunt +Maria’ll fit in! She’s the old-fashioned kind, +right up to the limit, Aunt Maria is. Sewing-societies +and Sunday-schools is the hands she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span> +holds flushes in; and she has the preacher +once a week to supper; and when it comes +to kindergartens––Hart was so worked up +he talked careless––she’s simply hell! What’s +a woman like that going to do, I want to +know, in a place like this––that’s mainly +made up of saloons and dance-halls and faro-banks, +and everybody mostly drunk, and +shooting-scrapes going on all the time? It +just makes me sick to think about it.” And +Hart groaned.</p> +<p>Cherry swore for a while, sort of friendly +and sociable––he was a sympathetic man, +Cherry was, and always did what he could +to help––and as Hart was too far gone to +swear for himself, in a way that amounted +to anything, hearing what Cherry had to +say seemed to do him good.</p> +<p>“I’d stop her, if there was any stop to +her,” he went on, in a minute or two, speaking +hopeless and miserable; “but there ain’t. +She says she’s starting the day after she +writes––having a chance to come sudden with +friends––and that means she’s most here +now. And there’s no heading her off––because +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span> +she says the friends she’s hooked fast +to may be coming to Pueblo and may be +coming to Santa Fé. But it don’t make any +difference, she says, as she’s told she can get +down easy by the railroad from Pueblo, or +she can slide across to Palomitas by ’a short +and pleasant coach-ride’––that’s what she +calls it––from Santa Fé.</p> +<p>“That’s all she tells about her coming. +The rest of what’s in her letter is about how +glad she’ll be to see me, and about how glad +she knows I’ll be to see her––being lonely so +far from my folks, and likely needing my +clothes mended, and pleased to be eating +some of her home-made pies. It’s just like +Aunt Maria to put in things like that. You +see, she brought me up––and she’s never got +out of her head I’m more’n about nine years +old. What I feel like doing is going out in +the sage-brush and blowing the top of my +fool head off, and letting the coyotes eat +what’s left of me and get me out of the +way!”</p> +<p>Hart really did look as if he meant it, +Cherry said afterwards. He was the miserablest-looking +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span> +man, he said, he’d ever seen +alive.</p> +<p>Cherry said he begun to have a notion, +though, while Hart was talking, how the +thing might be worked so there wouldn’t be +no real trouble if it could be fixed so Hart’s +aunt wouldn’t stay in Palomitas more’n +about a day; and he come right on down to +the Forest Queen to see if he could get the +boys to help him put it through. He left +Hart clearing out the room he kept flour and +meal in––being the cleanest––trying to rig +up for his aunt some sort of a bunking-place. +He was going to give her his own cot and +mattress, he said; and he could fit her out +with a looking-glass and a basin and pitcher +all right because he kept them sort of things +to sell; and he said he’d make the place +extra tidy by putting a new horse-blanket on +the floor. Seeing his way to getting a grip +on that much of the contract, Cherry said, +seemed to make him feel a little less bad.</p> +<p>Cherry waited till the deal was over, when +he got to the Forest Queen; and then he +asked Santa Fé Charley if he’d let him speak +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span> +to the boys for a minute before the game +went on. He was always polite and obliging, +Santa Fé was, and he said of course he might; +and he rapped on the table with his derringer +for order, and said Mr. Cherry had the +floor. Charley was old-fashioned in his ways +of fighting. He always had a six-shooter in +his belt, same as other folks; but he said he +kept it mainly for show. Derringers, he said, +was better and surer––because you could +work ’em around in your pocket while the +other fellow was getting his gun out, and +before he was ready for business you could +shoot him right through your pants. Later +on, it was that very way Santa Fé shot Hart. +But he always was friendly with Hart till +he did shoot him; and it was more his backing +than anything else––’specially when it +come to the kindergarten––that made Cherry’s +plan for helping Hart out go through.</p> +<p>When the game was stopped, and the boys +was all listening, Cherry told about the hole +Hart was in and allowed it was a deep one; +and he said it was only fair––Hart having +done good turns for most everybody, one +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span> +time and another––his friends should be +willing to take some trouble to get him out +of it. Hart’s aunt, he said, come from a +quiet part of Vermont, and likely would be +jolted bad when she struck Palomitas if +things was going the ordinary way––she being +elderly, and like enough a little set in her +ways, and not used much to crazy drunks, +and shooting-matches, and such kinds of +lively carryings-on. But she’d only stay one +day, or at most a day and a half––Hart having +agreed to take her right back East himself, +if she couldn’t be got rid of no other +way––and that gave ’em a chance to fix +things so her feelings wouldn’t be hurt, +though doing it was going to be hard on all +hands. And then, having got the boys +worked up wondering what he was driving +at, Cherry went ahead and said he wanted +’em to agree––just for the little while Hart’s +aunt was going to stay there––to run Palomitas +like it was a regular back-East Sunday-school +town. He knew he was asking a good +deal, he said, but he did ask it––and he appealed +to the better feelings of the gentlemen +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span> +assembled around that faro-table to do that +much to get Bill Hart out of his hole. Then +Cherry said he wasn’t nobody’s orator, but +he guessed he’d made clear what he wanted +to lay before the meeting; and he said he was +much obliged, and had pleasure in setting up +drinks for the crowd.</p> +<p>As was to be expected of ’em, all the boys––knowing +Hart for a square-acting man, +and liking him––tumbled right off to Cherry’s +plan. Santa Fé said––this was after they’d +had their drinks––he s’posed he was chairman +of the meeting, and he guessed he spoke +the sense of the meeting when he allowed +Mr. Cherry’s scheme was about the only way +out for their esteemed fellow-citizen, Mr. +Hart, and it ought to go through. But as +it was a matter that seriously affected the +comfort and convenience of everybody in +Palomitas, he said, it was only square to +take a vote on it––and so he’d ask all in +favor of Mr. Cherry’s motion to say “Ay.” +And everybody in the room––except the few +that was asleep, or too drunk to say anything––said +“Ay” as loud as they knowed how.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span></div> +<p>“Mr. Cherry’s motion is carried, gentlemen,” +Santa Fé said; “and I will now appoint +a committee to draught a notice to be +posted at the deepo, and to call around at +the other banks and saloons in the town and +notify verbally our fellow-citizens of the +action we have taken––and I will ask the +Hen here kindly to inform the other ladies +of Palomitas of our intentions, and to request +their assistance in realizing them. She had +better tell them, I reckon, that the way they +can come to the front most effectively in +this crisis is by keeping entirely out of sight +in the rear.”</p> +<p>The Sage-Brush Hen, along with some of +the other girls, had come in from the back +room––where the dancing was––to find out +what the circus was about; and when they +caught on to what Palomitas was going to +be like when Hart’s aunt struck it they all +just yelled.</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_3' id='linki_3'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/p0084-insert.jpg' alt='' title='' width='365' height='541' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +“WROTE OUT A NOTICE THAT WAS TACKED UP ON THE DEEPO DOOR”<br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span></div> +<p>“You’ve come out well once as the Baptist +minister, Charley,” the Hen said, shaking all +over; “and I reckon you can do it again––only +it won’t be so easy showing off the new +church and the parsonage by daylight as it +was in the dark. About us girls laying low, +maybe you’re right and maybe you’re not +right. Anyway, don’t you worry about us. +All I’ll say is, it won’t be the ladies in this +combine that’ll give anything away!” And +she and the other girls got so to laughing over +it they all of ’em had to set down.</p> +<p>Cherry was more pleased than a little the +way things had gone––and he said so to the +boys, and set up drinks all round again. +Then he and Abe Simons––they was the committee +to do it––wrote out a notice that was +tacked up on the deepo door and read this +way:</p> +<blockquote> +<p class='center'>TO THE CITIZENS OF PALOMITAS</p> +<p>Mr. William Hart’s aunt is coming to +pay him a visit, and will strike this town +either by the Denver train to-morrow +morning or the Santa Fé coach to-morrow +afternoon.</p> +<p>She is a perfect lady, and it is ordered +that during her stay in Palomitas this +town has got to behave itself so her feelings +won’t be hurt. She is to be took +care of and given a pleasant impression. +All fights and drunks must be put off till +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span> +she’s gone. Persons neglecting to do so +will be taken out into the sage-brush by +members of the committee, and are likely +to get hurt.</p> +<p>Mr. Hart regrets this occurrence as +much as anybody, and agrees his aunt’s +visit sha’n’t last beyond a day and a half +if she comes down from Denver, and only +one day if she comes in from Santa Fé.</p> +<p class='ralign'>(<i>Signed</i>) THE COMMITTEE.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>When Cherry got a-hold of Hart and told +him what the town had agreed to do for him +he was that grateful––being all worked up, +anyway––he pretty near cried.</p> +<p>As it turned out, Hart’s aunt come in on +Hill’s coach from Santa Fé––her friends having +gone down that way by the Atchison––and +as Hill had been at the meeting at the +Forest Queen he was able to give things a +good start. Hill always was a friendly sort +of a fellow, and––except he used terrible bad +language, which he said come of his having +to drive mules––he was a real first-class +ladies’ man.</p> +<p>Hill said he spotted Hart’s aunt the minute +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span> +he set his eyes on her waiting for the coach +at the Fonda, there not being likely to be +more’n one in the Territory of that kind. +She was a trig little old lady, dressed up in +black clothes as neat as wax, he said, with a +little black bonnet setting close to her head; +and she wore gold specs and had a longish +nose. But she’d a real friendly look about +her, he said; and while she spoke a little +precise and particular she wasn’t a bit stuck-up, +and seemed to be taking things about as +they happened to come along. When he +asked her if she wouldn’t set up on the box +with him, so she could see the country, she +said that was just what would suit her; and +up she come, he said, as spry as a queer little +bird. Then he whipped up his mules––being +careful not to use any language––and got the +coach started, and begun right off to be +agreeable by telling her he guessed he had +the pleasure of knowing her nephew, and +asking her if she wasn’t the aunt of Mr. +William Hart.</p> +<p>Well, of course that set things to going +pleasant between ’em; and when she’d +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span> +allowed she was Hart’s aunt, and said she +was glad to meet a friend of his, she started +in asking all the questions about Bill and +about Palomitas she knowed how to ask.</p> +<p>Hill said he guessed that day they had to +lay off the regular recording angel and put +a hired first-class stenographer on his job––seeing +how no plain angel, not writing shorthand, +could a-kept up with all the lies he +felt it his duty to tell if he was going to +bring Bill through in good shape and keep +up the reputation of the town. It wasn’t +square to charge them lies up to him, anyway, +Hill said, seeing he only was playing +Cherry’s hand for him; and he said he hoped +they was put in Cherry’s bill. By the time +he’d got through with his fairy tales, he said, +he’d give Hart such a character he didn’t +know him himself; and he’d touched up +Palomitas till he’d got it so it might a-been +a town just outside Boston––only he allowed +they was sometimes troubled with hard cases +passing through; and he told her of course +she’d find things kind of half-baked and noisy +out there on the frontier. And she must remember, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span> +he told her, that all the folks in the +town was young––young men who’d brought +their young wives with ’em, come to hustle +in a new country––and she mustn’t mind if +things went livelier’n the way she was used +to back East.</p> +<p>Hill said she said she wasn’t expecting to +find things like they was at home, and she +guessed she’d manage all right––seeing she +always got on well with young people, and +wasn’t a bit set in her own ways. And she +said she was as pleased as she was surprised +to find out the kind of a town Palomitas was––because +her nephew William’s letters had +led her to think it had a good many bad +characters in it; and he’d not mentioned +any church but the Catholic one where the +natives went; and as to the Bible Class and the +Friendly Aid Society, he’d never said a word +about ’em at all. She went on talking so +cheerful and pleasant, Hill said, it give him +creeps in his back; and he got so rattled the +last half of the run––coming on from Pojuaque, +where they’d had dinner at old man +Bouquet’s––he hardly knowed what he’d told +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span> +and what he hadn’t, and whether he was +standing on his head or his heels.</p> +<p>Being that way, he made the only break +that gave trouble afterwards. She asked +him if there was a school in Palomitas, and +he told her there wasn’t, because all the folks +in town was so young––except the natives, +who hadn’t no use for schools––they hadn’t +any children big enough to go to one. And +then she said sudden, and as it seemed to +him changing the subject: “Isn’t there a +kindergarten?” Hill said he’d never heard +tell of such a concern; but he sized it up to +be some sort of a fancy German garden––like +the one Becker’d fixed up for himself over +to Santa Cruz––and he said he allowed, from +the way she asked about it, it was what +Palomitas ought to have. So he told her +there was, and it was the best one in the +Territory––and let it go at that. He said +she said she was glad to hear it, as she took +a special interest in kindergartens, and she’d +go and see it the first thing.</p> +<p>Hill said he knowed he’d put his foot in it +somehow; but as he didn’t know how he’d +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span> +put his foot in it, he just switched her off by +telling her about the Dorcas Society. He +had the cards for that, he said, because his +mother’d helped run a Dorcas Society back +East and he knowed what he was talking +about. The Palomitas one met Thursdays, +he told her, at the Forest Queen. That was +the principal hotel, he told her, and was kept +by Mrs. Major Rogers, who was an officer’s +widow and had started the society to make +clothes for some of the Mexican poor folks––and +he said it was a first-rate charity and +worked well. It tickled him so, he said, +thinking of any such doings at the Forest +Queen––with old Tenderfoot Sal, of all people, +bossing the job!––he had to work off the +laugh he had inside of him by taking to licking +his mules.</p> +<p>But it went all right with the little old +lady; and she was that interested he had +to strain himself, he said, making up more +stories about it––till by good luck she took +to telling him about the Dorcas Society she +belonged to herself, back home in Vermont; +and was so full of it she kept things going +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span> +easy for him till they’d crossed the bridge +over the Rio Grande and was coming up the +slope into the town at a walk.</p> +<p>Up at the top of the slope Santa Fé Charley +stood a-waiting for ’em––looking, of course, +in them black clothes and a white tie on, like +he was a sure-enough preacher––and as the +coach come along he sung out, pleasant and +friendly: “Good-afternoon, Brother Hill. I +missed you at the Bible Class last evening. +No doubt you were detained unavoidably, +and it’s all right. But be sure to come next +Friday. We don’t get along well without +you, Brother Hill.” And Santa Fé took his +hat off stylish and made the old lady the +best sort of a bow.</p> +<p>Hill caught on quick and played right up +to Santa Fé’s lead. “That’s our minister, +Mr. Charles, ma’am. The one I’ve been +telling you about,” he said. “He’s just +friendly and sociable like that all the time. +He looks after the folks in this town closer’n +any preacher I ever knowed.” A part of +that, Hill said, was dead certain truth––seeing +as Santa Fé had his eyes out straight +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span> +along for everybody about the place who’d +a dollar in his pocket, and wasn’t satisfied +till he’d scooped in that dollar over his table +at the Forest Queen.</p> +<p>“There’s the new church we’re building,” +Hill went on, as they got to the top of the +slope and headed for the deepo. “It ain’t +much to look at yet, the spire not being put +on; and it won’t show up well, even when it +gets its spire on it, with churches East. But +we’re going to be satisfied with it, seeing it’s +the best we can do. You’ll be interested to +know, ma’am, your nephew give the land.”</p> +<p>“William hasn’t let on anything about it,” +Hart’s aunt said, looking pleased all over. +“But what in the world is a church doing +with a railroad track running into it, Mr. +Hill?”</p> +<p>Hill said he’d forgot about the track when +he settled to use the new freight-house for +church purposes; but he said he pulled himself +together quick and told her the track +was temp’ry––put in so building material +could unload right on the ground. And then +he took to talking about how obliging the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span> +railroad folks had been helping ’em––and +kept a-talking that way till he got the coach +to the deepo, and didn’t need to hustle making +things up any more. He said he never +was so thankful in his life as he was when his +stunt was done. He was just tired out, he +said, lying straight ahead all day over thirty +miles of bad road and not being able once to +speak natural to his mules.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>Hart was waiting at the deepo, on the +chance his aunt would come in on the coach; +and when she saw him she give a little squeal, +she was so pleased, and hopped down in no +time off the box––she was as brisk as a bee +in her doings––and took to hugging him and +half crying over him just like he was a little +boy.</p> +<p>“Oh, William,” she said, “I am <i>so</i> happy +getting to you! And I’m happier’n I expected +to be, finding out how quiet and +respectable Palomitas is––not a bit what +your letters made me think it was––and such +real good people living in it, and everything +but the queer country and the queer mud +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span> +houses just like it is at home. Mr. Hill has +been telling me all about it, coming over, +and about this new church you’re building +that you gave the lot for. To think you’ve +never told me! Oh, William, I am so glad +and so thankful that out here in this wild +region you’ve kept serious-minded and are +turning out such a good man!”</p> +<p>Hart looked so mixed up over the way his +aunt was talking, and so sort of hopeless, +that Hill cut in quick and give him a lift. +“He’s not much at blowing about himself, +your nephew ain’t, ma’am,” Hill said. “Why, +he not only give the land for the church over +there”––and Hill pointed at the freight-house, +so Hart could ketch on––“but it was +him got the Company to lay them temp’ry +tracks, so the building stuff could be took +right in. He’s going to give a melodeon, +too.”</p> +<p>“Dear William!” Hart’s aunt said. “It +rejoices my heart you’re doing all these +good deeds––and all the others Mr. Hill’s +been telling me about. I must kiss you +again.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span></div> +<p>“Oh, what I’ve done ain’t nothing,” +Hart said, pulling himself together while she +was kissing him. “Land’s cheap, cheap as +it can be, out here; and I give the Company +such a lot of freight they’re more’n willing to +oblige me; and as to the melodeon––”</p> +<p>Hart sort of gagged when he got to the +melodeon, and Santa Fé Charley––who’d +come up while they all was talking away together––reached +across the table and played +his hand. “As to the melodeon, Mr. Hart,” +Santa Fé put in, “you said that being in +business you could get it at a discount off. +But that does not appreciably lessen your +generosity, Mr. Hart; and your aunt”––Santa +Fé took off his hat and bowed handsome––“is +justified in taking pride in your +good deeds. I am glad to tell her that in her +nephew our struggling church has its stanchest +pillar and its strongest stay.”</p> +<p>“Yes, that’s the way it is about the +melodeon, Aunt Maria,” Hart said, kind of +weak and mournful. “Being in business, +I get melodeons at such a discount off that +giving ’em away ain’t nothing to me at all. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span> +And now I guess we’d better be getting along +home. It’s a mighty mean home to take +you to, Aunt Maria; but there’s one comfort––as +you’ll find out when I get the chance to +talk to you––you won’t have to stay in it +long.”</p> +<p>There was a lot of the boys standing round +on the deepo platform watching the show, +and they all took their hats off respectful––following +the lead Santa Fé give ’em––as +Hart started away up the track, to where his +store was, with his aunt on his arm. The +town looked like some place East keeping +Sunday: the Committee having talked strong +as to what they’d do if things wasn’t quiet, +and having rounded up––and coralled in a +back room Denver Jones lent the use of––the +few who’d got drunk as usual because they +had to, and so had to be took care of that +way. It was a June evening, and the sun +about setting; and somehow it all was so +sort of peaceful and uncommon––with everybody +in sight sober, and no fighting anywhere, +and that little old lady going along, believing +Palomitas was like that always, instead of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span> +the hell on earth it was––some of us more’n +half believed we’d gone to sleep and got +stuck in a dream.</p> +<p>Things was made dreamier by the looks +and doings of the Sage-Brush Hen. She was +the only lady of the town, the Hen was, who +took part in the ceremonies––and likely it +was just about as well, for the sake of keeping +clear of surprises, the rest of ’em laid low. +As Hart and his aunt went off together up +the track, the Hen showed up coming along +down it; and she was dressed that pretty +and quiet––in the plainest sort of a white +frock, and wearing a white sun-bonnet––and +was looking so demure, like she could +when she’d a mind to, nobody knowed at +first who she was.</p> +<p>“Being the minister’s wife, I’ve been taking +the liberty, Mr. Hart,” she said, smiling +pleasant, when the three of ’em come together +on the track, “of looking around a +little up at your place to see that everything +has been fixed for your company the way it +should be.” (She hadn’t been nowheres near +Hart’s place, it turned out––but Gospel +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span> +truth wasn’t just what there was most of that +day in Palomitas.) She went right on down +the track without stopping, passing on Hart’s +side, and saying to him: “My husband expects +you as usual at the Friendly Aid meeting +to-morrow evening, Mr. Hart. We never +seem half to get along, you know, when +you’re not there.”</p> +<p>Hart’s aunt give a little jump, and said: +“Why, William, that must be Mrs. Charles, +the minister’s wife. What a pleasant-spoken +lady she is! We met her husband just as we +were driving into town.”</p> +<p>Hart said he come pretty near saying +back to her, “The hell you did!”––Hart +talked that careless way, sometimes––but he +said he pulled up before it got out, and all +he did say was, “Oh!”</p> +<p>“She must be at the head of the Dorcas +Society that Mr. Hill was telling me about,” +Hart’s aunt went on; “and like enough she +manages the kindergarten, too. I suppose, +William, it’s not surprising you haven’t said +anything in your letters about the Dorcas +Society––for all you were so liberal in helping +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span> +it––but I do think you might have told me +about the kindergarten, knowing what a +hobby of mine kindergartens are. I want to +go and see it to-morrow morning, the first +thing.”</p> +<p>“It’s––it’s not in running order just now,” +Hart said. “Most of the children was took +sick with the influenza last week, and there’s +whooping-cough and measles about, and so +the school committee closed it down. And +they had to stop, anyway, because they’re +going to put a new roof on. I guess it won’t +blow in again for about a month––or maybe +more. In fact, I don’t know––you see, it +wasn’t managed well, and got real down unpopular––if +it’ll blow in again at all. I’m +sorry you won’t be able to get to it, Aunt +Maria. Maybe it’ll be running if you happen +to come out again next year.”</p> +<p>“Why, how queer that is, William!” Hart’s +aunt said. “Mr. Hill told me it was the best +kindergarten in New Mexico. But of course +you know. Anyhow, I can see the schoolroom +and the school fixtures, and Mrs. +Charles can tell me about it when I go to the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span> +Dorcas Society––and that’ll do most as well. +Of course I must get to the Dorcas Society. +Mrs. Charles will take me, I’m sure. It meets, +Mr. Hill says, every Thursday afternoon.”</p> +<p>“Did he say where it was meeting now?” +Hart asked. He was getting about desperate, +he told Cherry afterwards; and what he wanted +most was a chance to mash Hill’s fool head +for putting him in such a lot of holes.</p> +<p>“Of course he did, William,” said Hart’s +aunt; “and I’m surprised you have to ask––seeing +what an interest you take in the +Society, and how you’ve helped it along. It +was just lovely of you to give them all those +goods out of your store to make up into +clothes.”</p> +<p>“That––that wasn’t anything to do,” +Hart said. “What’s in the store comes with +a big discount––same as melodeons. Sometimes +I feel as if I was saving money giving +things away.”</p> +<p>“You can talk about your generosity just +as you please, William,” she went on. “<i>I</i> +think it’s noble of you. And Mr. Hill said +that Mrs. Major Rogers––who keeps the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span> +Forest Queen Hotel, he said, and lets the +Society have a room to meet in for nothing––said +it was noble of you, too. I want to get +to know Mrs. Major Rogers right off. She +must be a very fine woman. She’s an officer’s +widow, Mr. Hill says, and a real lady, for all +she makes her living keeping a hotel out +here on the frontier. If she’s a bit like that +sweet-looking Mrs. Charles I know we’ll +get along. I’m surprised, William, you’ve +never told me what pleasant ladies live here. +It must make all the difference in the world. +Don’t you think it would do for me not to be +formal, but just to go to Mrs. Major Rogers’ +hotel to-morrow and call?”</p> +<p>“I guess––well, I guess you hadn’t better +go right off the first thing in the morning, +Aunt Maria,” Hart said. Thinking of his +aunt going calling at the Forest Queen and +running up against Tenderfoot Sal, he said, +gave him the regular cold shakes. “And +come to think of it,” he said, “it’s no use +your going to-morrow at all. Mrs.––Mrs. +Major Rogers, as I happen to know, went up +to Denver yesterday; and she won’t be back, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span> +she told me, before some time on in the end +of next week––likely as not, she said, she +wouldn’t come then.”</p> +<p>By that time they’d got along to Hart’s +store, and Hart said: “Here’s where I +live, Aunt Maria. You see what sort of a +place it is. But I’ve done my best to fix +things for you as well as I know how. Come +right along in––and when we’ve had supper +we’ve got to have a talk.”</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>Along about ten o’clock that night Hart +come down to the Forest Queen looking pale +and haggard, and he was that broke up he +had to get three drinks in him before he +could say a word. Everybody was so interested, +wanting to hear what he had to tell +’em, he didn’t need to ask to have the game +stopped––it just stopped of its own accord.</p> +<p>When he’d had his third drink, and was +beginning to feel better, he said he couldn’t +thank everybody enough for the way they’d +behaved; and that his aunt had gone to bed +tired out; and he’d been talking with her +steady for two hours getting things settled; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span> +and she’d ended by agreeing she’d start back +East with him the next night––he having +made out he’d smash in his business if he +waited a minute longer––and they was going +by the Denver train. And he’d got her fixed +he said, so she’d keep quiet through the +morning––as she was going right at mending +his stockings and things the first thing when +she got up; and after that she was full of +getting to work with canned peaches and +making him a pie.</p> +<p>“But what’s going to happen in the afternoon,” +he said, “the Lord only knows! That +blasted fool of a Ben Hill”––Hart spoke just +that bitter way about it––“hasn’t had no +more sense ’n to go and tell her this town’s +full of kindergartens, and she’s so worked up +there’s no holding her, as kindergartens happens +to be the fullest hand she holds. I’ve +allowed we have one––things being as they +was, I had to––but I’ve told her it’s out of +order, and the children laid up with whooping-cough, +and the teacher sick a-bed, and +the outfit damaged by a fire we had, and––and +the Lord knows what I haven’t told her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span> +about the damn thing.” (Hart was that +nervous he couldn’t help speaking that way.) +“But all I’ve said hasn’t made no difference. +She’s just dead set on getting to what’s left +of that kindergarten, and I can’t budge her. +See it she will, she says; and I guess the upshot +of Hill’s chuckle-headed talk’ll be to +waste all the trouble we’ve took by landing +us in the biggest give-away that ever was!” +And Hart called for another drink, and had +to set down to take it––looking pale.</p> +<p>All the boys felt terrible bad about the +hole Hart was in; and they felt worse because +none of ’em hadn’t no notion what +a kindergarten did––when it did anything––and +that made ’em more ashamed Palomitas +hadn’t one to show. Only Becker––Becker’d +happened to come over from Santa Cruz that +night––sized it up right; and Becker shook +his head sort of dismal and said there wasn’t +no use even thinking about it––and that +looked like a settler, because Becker seemed +to know. Nobody didn’t say nothing for a +minute or two; and then Ike Williams spoke +up––he was the boss carpenter on the freight-house +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span> +job, Ike was––and said if what was +wanted could be made out of boards, and +made in a hurry, he’d lay off the freight-house +gang the next morning and engage to have +one ready by noon.</p> +<p>Santa Fé Charley’d been sitting still thinking, +not saying a word. He let out a big +cuss––and Charley wasn’t given to cussing––when +Ike made his offer; and then he banged +his hand down on the table so hard he set +the chips to flying, and he said: “Mr. Hart, +don’t you worry––we’re going to put this job +through!”</p> +<p>Everybody jumped up at that––some of ’em +scrambling for the dropped chips––asking +Santa Fé what he meant to do. But +Charley wouldn’t answer ’em. “Just you +trust to Ike and me, Bill,” he said. “We’ll +fix your kindergarten all right––only you +keep on telling your aunt it ain’t a good one, +and how most of it got burned up in the fire. +It’s luck you let on to her there’d been a +fire––that makes it as easy as rolling off a +log. All you’ve got to do is to bring her +down here at four o’clock to-morrow afternoon––you’d +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span> +better till then keep her in the +house, mending you up and making you all +the pies she has a mind to––and when she +gets here the kindergarten’ll be here, too!”</p> +<p>“Bring her here––to the Forest Queen?” +Hart said, speaking doubtful.</p> +<p>“Bring her here––right here to the Forest +Queen,” Santa Fé said back to him. “You +know pretty well I do things when I say I’ll +do ’em––and this thing’ll be done! Come to +think of it,” he said, “maybe it’ll be better +if I go to your place and fetch her along myself. +It’ll help if I do a little talking to her +on the way down. Yes, we’ll fix it that way. +You and she be ready at four o’clock, and +I’ll come for you. That’ll give her an hour +here, and an hour to go home and eat her +supper––and that’ll get us to train-time, and +then the circus’ll close down. Now you go +home and go to bed, Bill. You’re all beat +out. Just you leave things to Ike and me +and go right home.”</p> +<p>Charley wouldn’t say another word––so +Hart had one more drink, for luck, and then +he went home. He looked real relieved.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span></div> +<p>When Santa Fé went to Hart’s place, next +afternoon, he had on his best black clothes, +with a clean shirt and a fresh white tie; and +he was that serious-looking you’d have sized +him up for a sure-enough fire-escape anywhere +on sight. Hart hadn’t had no trouble, +it turned out, keeping his aunt to home––she’d +been working double tides ever since +she got up, he said, making him things to +eat and fussing over his clothes. They was +all ready when Santa Fé come along, and +the three of ’em stepped off down the track +together––Hart having his aunt on his arm, +and Santa Fé walking on ahead over the +ties. Most of the boys was standing about +watching the procession; but the girls––the +Hen, likely, having told ’em to––was keeping +on keeping quiet, and got what they could of +it peeping through chinks in the windows +and doors.</p> +<p>“Why, where <i>are</i> all the ladies, Mr. +Charles?” Hart’s aunt asked. “Except that +sweet young wife of yours, it’s just the +mortal truth I haven’t seen a single lady +since I came into this town!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span></div> +<p>“They usually keep in-doors at this time +of day, madam,” Charley said. “They’re +attending to their domestic duties––and––and +most of them, about now, are wont to be +enjoying the tenderest happiness of motherhood +in nursing their little babes.”</p> +<p>“It’s very creditable they’re such good +housewives, I’m sure,” said Hart’s aunt; +“only I do wish I could have met some of +’em and had a good dish of talk. But we’ll +be finding your wife at the kindergarten, I +s’pose, and I’ll have the pleasure of a talk +with her. I’ve been looking forward all day +to meeting her, Mr. Charles. She has one of +the very sweetest faces I ever saw.”</p> +<p>“I deeply regret to tell you, madam,” said +Santa Fé, “that my wife was called away +suddenly last evening by a telegram. She +had no choice in the matter. Her call was +to minister to a sick relative in Denver, and +of course she left immediately on the night +train. Her disappointment at not meeting +you was great. She had set her heart on +showing you over our poor, half-ruined kindergarten––the +fire did fearful damage––but +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span> +her duty was too manifest to be ignored, and +she had to leave that pleasant task to me.”</p> +<p>“Now that is just too bad!” said Hart’s +aunt. “At least, Mr. Charles, I don’t mean +that exactly. It’s very kind of you to take +her place, and I’m delighted to have you. +But I did so like your wife’s looks, and I’ve +been hoping she and I really’d have a chance +to get to be friends.”</p> +<p>That brought ’em to the Forest Queen, +and Charley was more’n glad he was let out +from making more excuses why his wife had +shook her kindergarten job so sudden. +“Here we are,” he said. “But I must warn +you again, madam, that our little kindergarten +is only the ghost of what it was +before the fire. We are hoping to get a new +outfit shortly. On the very morning after +the disaster a subscription was started––your +nephew, as always, leading in the good work––and +that afternoon we telegraphed East +our order for fresh supplies. By the time +that the epidemic of whooping-cough has +abated––I am glad to say that all the children +are doing well––we trust that our flock of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span> +little ones again can troop gladly to receive +the elementary instruction that they delight +in, and that my wife delights to impart.”</p> +<p>“Why,” said Hart’s aunt, “the kindergarten’s +in Mrs. Major Rogers’ hotel––the +Forest Queen!”</p> +<p>“After the fire, Mrs. Major Rogers most +kindly gave us the free use of one of her +largest rooms,” Santa Fé said; “and we are +installed here until our own building can be +repaired. I have spared you the sight, +madam, of that melancholy ruin. I confess +that when I look at it the tears come into +my eyes.”</p> +<p>“I don’t wonder, I’m sure,” said Hart’s +aunt. “I think I’d cry over it myself. But +what a real down good woman Mrs. Major +Rogers must be! Mr. Hill told me she gives +the Dorcas Society the use of a room, too.”</p> +<p>“She is a noble, high-toned lady, madam,” +Santa Fé said. “Since her cruel bereavement +she has devoted to good works all the +time that she can spare from the arduous +duties by which she wins her livelihood. +Words fail me to say enough in her praise! +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span> +Come right in, madam––but be prepared for +a sad surprise!”</p> +<p>Hart said he didn’t know how much surprised +his aunt was––but he said when he +got inside the Forest Queen, into the bar-room +where Charley’s faro layout usually was, he +was so surprised himself he felt as if he’d +been kicked by a mule!</p> +<p>There was the little tables for drinks, right +enough; and out of the way in a corner with +a cloth over it, same as usual, was the wheel. +(It was used so little, the wheel was––nobody +but Mexicans, now and then, caring for it––Santa +Fé owned up afterwards he’d forgot it +clean!) That much of the place was just as +it always was; and the big table, taking up +half the room, looked so natural––with the +chairs up to it, and layouts of chips at all +the places––that Hart was beginning to think +Santa Fé was setting up a rig on him: ’till he +seen what a lot of queer things besides chips +there was on the table––and knowed they +wasn’t no game layout, and so sized ’em up +to be what Charley’d scrambled together +when he set out to play his kindergarten +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span> +hand. And when he noticed the bar was +curtained off by sheets he said he stopped +worrying––feeling dead certain Charley’d +dealt himself all the aces he needed to take +him through.</p> +<p>“You don’t need to be told, madam, being +such an authority on kindergartens,” said +Santa Fé, “how inadequate is our little outfit +for educational purposes. But you must +remember that the fire destroyed almost +everything, and that we have merely improvised +what will serve our purposes until the +new supply arrives. We succeeded in saving +from the conflagration our large table, and +our chairs, and most of the small tables––used +by individual children having backward +intellects and needing especial care. But +nearly all of the other appliances of the school +were lost to us, and damage was done to much +of what we saved. Here, you see, is a little +table with only three legs left, the fourth +having been burned.” And, sure enough, +Hart said, Santa Fé turned up one of the +little tables for drinks and one of its legs <i>was</i> +burnt off! “All of our slates,” he went +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span> +ahead, “similarly were destroyed––and how +much depends on slates in a kindergarten +you know, madam, better than I do. Here +is all that is left of one of them”––and he +showed Hart’s aunt a bit of burnt wood that +looked like it had been part of a slate-frame +afore it got afire.</p> +<p>“Dear me! Dear me!” said Hart’s aunt. +“It’s just pitiful, Mr. Charles! I wonder +how you can get along at all.”</p> +<p>“It is not easy getting along, madam,” +Santa Fé said. “But we have managed to +supply ourselves with a layout––I––that is––I +mean we have provided ourselves with +some of the simpler articles of most importance; +and with these, for the time being, we +keep our little pupils’ hands and minds not +unprofitably employed. For instance, the +ivory disks of various colors––which you see +arranged upon the table as the pupils have +left them––serve very successfully to elucidate +the arithmetical processes of numeration, +addition, and subtraction; and the +more intelligent children are taught to observe +that the disks of varying colors are +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span> +varyingly numbered––white, 1; red, 5, and +blue, 10––and so are encouraged to identify +a concrete arbitrary figure with an abstract +thought.”</p> +<p>“That’s something new in kindergartening, +Mr. Charles,” said Hart’s aunt; “and it’s as +good as it can be. I mean to put it right +into use in our kindergarten at home. Do +you get the disks at the places where they +sell kindergarten supplies?”</p> +<p>“Really, madam, I cannot tell you,” +Santa Fé said. “You see, we ordered what +would be needed through an agent East, and +these came along. I must warn you, however, +that they are expensive,” Hart said, +remembering what them chips +had cost him, one time and another, he +allowed to himself Charley was right and +they was about as expensive as they could +be!</p> +<p>“Our other little appliances, madam,” +Santa Fé went on, “are just our own makeshift +imitations of what you are familiar +with––building-blocks, and alphabet-blocks, +and dissected pictures, and that sort of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span> +thing. Our local carpenter made the blocks +for us, and we put on the lettering ourselves––as, +indeed, its poor quality shows. The +dissected pictures I am rather proud of, because +Mrs. Charles may be said to have +invented them.” (It really was the Hen +who’d made ’em, it turned out.) “The +method is simple enough when you have +thought of it, of course––and no doubt I +value my wife’s work unduly because I take +so much pride in all that she does. You see, +she just pasted pictures from the illustrated +papers on boards; and then Mr. Williams––our +carpenter, you know––sawed the boards +into little pieces. And there you are!”</p> +<p>“Now that <i>was</i> bright of her!” said Hart’s +aunt. “If you don’t mind, I’ll put one of +the pictures together myself right now. I +want to see how it looks, made that home-fashioned +way.”</p> +<p>“I fear that our time is getting a little +short, madam,” said Santa Fé, in a hurry. +“I’ve got my sermon to finish this afternoon, +and I must be going in a few minutes now.” +The fact of the matter was he had to call her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span> +off quick. It seems the Hen hadn’t had anything +but <i>Police Gazettes</i> to work on––and +while the bits looked all right jumbled up, +being put together they wouldn’t have suited +nohow at all.</p> +<p>“Of course I mustn’t keep you,” said +Hart’s aunt. “You’ve been more than kind, +Mr. Charles, to give me so much of your +valuable time as it is. I’m just like a child +myself, wanting to play with dissected pictures +that way! But I must say that her +making them is a thing for your wife to be +proud of––and I hope you’ll tell her so for +me.”</p> +<p>“I guess we’d better be going now, Aunt +Maria,” Hart said. “Mr. Charles has his +sermon to write, you know, and I want you +to have time to eat your supper comfortable +before we start down to the train.”</p> +<p>“I do suppose we must go,” said Hart’s +aunt. “But I hate to, William, and that’s +a fact! Just because it’s so make-shifty, +this is the most interesting kindergarten I’ve +ever been in. When I get home I shall really +and truly enjoy telling the folks about it. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span> +And I know how pleased they’ll be, the same +as I am, by finding what earnest-working +men and women can do––out here in this +rough country––with so little to go on but +their wits and their own good hearts!”</p> +<p>And then she faced round sudden on +Santa Fé and said: “I see you have your +table covered with green, Mr. Charles. +What’s that for? You’ve so many good +notions about kindergartens that I’d like to +know.”</p> +<p>“Well, you see, madam, that green cover +is a––it’s a sort of––” Charley went slow for +a minute, and then got a-hold of the card he +wanted and put it down as smooth as you +please. “That is an invention, madam,” he +said, “of my good wife’s, too. Out here, +where the sun is so violent, she said we must +have a green cover on the table or the glare +would be ruining all our dear little innocent +children’s eyes. And it has worked, madam, +to a charm! Some of the children who had +bad eyes to start with actually have got +well!”</p> +<p>“Well, I do declare!” said Hart’s aunt.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span></div> +<p>“That wife of yours thinks so sensible she +just beats all!”</p> +<p>Santa Fé give Hart a look as much as to +say he’d got to get his aunt away somehow––seeing +she was liable to break out a’most +anywheres, and he’d stood about all he could +stand. Hart allowed what Charley wanted +was reasonable, and he just grabbed her by +the arm and begun to lug her to the door. +But she managed to give Santa Fé one more +jolt, and a bad one, before she was gone.</p> +<p>“I haven’t seen what this is,” she said; +and she broke off from Hart and went to +where the wheel was standing covered up in +the corner. “I s’pose I may look at it, Mr. +Charles?” she said––and before either of ’em +could get a-hold of her to stop her she had +off the cloth. “For the land’s sake!” she +said. “Whatever part of a kindergarten +have you got here?”</p> +<p>Hart said afterwards his heart went down +into his boots, being sure they’d got to a give-away +of the worst sort. Santa Fé said he +felt that way for a minute himself; then he +said he ciphered on it that Hart’s aunt likely +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span> +wouldn’t know what she’d struck––and he +braced up and went ahead on that chance.</p> +<p>“Ah,” he said––speaking just as cool as +if he was calling the deal right among friends +at his own table––“that is one of the new +German kindergarten appliances that even +you, madam, may not have seen. We received +it as a present from a rich German +merchant in Pueblo, who was grieved by our +pitiable plight and wanted to do what he +could to help us after the fire.”</p> +<p>“But what in the name of common-sense,” +said Hart’s aunt, “do you do with it––with +all those numbers around in circles, and that +little ball?”</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_4' id='linki_4'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/p0120-insert.jpg' alt='' title='' width='354' height='542' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +“‘ONE OF THE NEW GERMAN KINDERGARTEN APPLIANCES’”<br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span></div> +<p>Charley had himself in good shape by that +time, and he put down his words as sure as +if they was aces––with more, if needed, up +his sleeve. “It is used by our most advanced +class in arithmetic, madam,” he said. +“The mechanism, you will observe, is arranged +to revolve”––he set it a-going––“in +such a way that the small sphere also is put +in motion. And as the motion ceases”––it +was slowing down to a stop––“the sphere +comes to rest on one of the numbers painted +legibly on either a black or a red ground. +The children, seated around the table, are +provided with the numerating disks to which +I have already called your attention; and––with +a varying rapidity, regulated by their +individual intelligence––they severally, as +promptly as possible, arrange their disks in +piles corresponding with the number indicated +by the purely fortuitous resting-place +of the sphere. The purpose of this ingenious +contrivance, as I scarcely need to point out +to you, is to combine the amusement of a +species of game with the mental stimulus +that the rapid computation of figures imparts. +I may add that we arouse a desirable +spirit of emulation among our little ones by +providing that the child who first correctly +arranges his disks to represent the indicated +figure is given––until the game is concluded––the +disks of the children whose calculation +has been slow, or at fault.”</p> +<p>“Well, of all things in the world, Mr. +Charles,” said Hart’s aunt, “to think of my +finding such a good thing as this out here +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span> +in New Mexico––when I’ve time and again +been over the best kindergarten-supply places +in Boston, and have been reading all I could +lay my hands on about kindergartens for +twenty years!”</p> +<p>“Oh, we do try not to be too primitive out +here, madam,” said Santa Fé, taking a long +breath over having got through all right; +“and I am even vain enough to think that +perhaps we manage to keep pretty well up +with the times. But I must say that it is a +pleasant surprise to me to find that I have +been able to give more than one point to a +lady like you, who knows every card––I +should say, to whom kindergarten processes +are so exceptionally well known.</p> +<p>“And now I really must beg your permission +to leave you, that I may return to my +sermon. I give much time to my sermons; +and I am cheered by the conviction––you +must not think me boastful––that it is time +well employed. When I look around me and +perceive the lawless, and even outrageous, +conditions which obtain in so many other +towns in the Territory, and contrast them +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span> +with the orderly rectitude of Palomitas, I +rejoice that my humble toil in the vineyard +has brought so rich a reward. I deeply regret, +madam, that your present stay with us +must be so short; and with an equal earnestness +I hope that it may be my privilege soon +again to welcome you to our happy little +town.”</p> +<p>Hart’s aunt––she was just pleased all over––was +beginning to make a speech back to +him; but Santa Fé looked so wore out Hart +didn’t give her the chance to go on. He just +grabbed her, and got her away in a hurry––and +Charley went to fussing with the cover +of the wheel, putting it on again, so she +couldn’t get at him to shake hands for good-bye. +He said afterwards he felt that weak, +when he fairly was shut of her, all he could +do was to flop down into a chair anyway and +sing out to Blister Mike to come and get the +sheets off the bar quick and give him his +own bottle of Bourbon and a tumbler. And +he said he never took so many drinks, +one right on top of another, since he was +born!</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span></div> +<p>There was more’n the usual crowd down +at the deepo that night when the Denver +train pulled out––with Hart’s aunt in the +Pullman, and Hart standing on the Pullman +platform telling the boys up to the last minute +how much he was obliged.</p> +<p>Things went that same Sunday-school way +right on to the end of the game; and Hart +said his aunt told him––as they was coming +along down to the deepo––she never would +a-believed there could be such a town as +Palomitas was, out in that wild frontier +country, if she hadn’t seen it with her own +eyes. As to the ladies of the town, he said +she told him they certainly was the most +domestic she’d ever known!</p> +<p>Hart was so grateful––and he had a right +to be––he left a hunderd dollars with Tenderfoot +Sal and told her to blow off the town +for him that night by running a free bar. +Sal done it, right enough––and that turned +out to be about the hottest night Palomitas +ever had. Most of the trouble was in the +dance-hall, where it was apt to be, and had +its start, as it did generally, right around the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span> +Sage-Brush Hen: who kept on being dressed +up in her white frock and wearing her white +sun-bonnet, and looked as demure as a cotton-tail +rabbit, and cut up so reckless I reckon +she about made a record for carryings on! +Santa Fé had to fix one feller because of her––shooting +him like he was used to, through +his pants-pocket––and more’n a dozen got +hurt in the ordinary way.</p> +<p>Some of the shooting didn’t seem quite as +if it was needed; but it was allowed afterwards––even +if there hadn’t been no free bar––there +was excuse for it: seeing the town +was all strung up and had to work itself off. +Santa Fé, of course, had more excuse than +anybody, being most strung-upest. Bluffing +his way through that kindergarten game, he +said, was the biggest strain he’d ever had. +But he didn’t mind what trouble he’d took, +he said, seeing he’d got Hart out of his hole +by taking it; and he looked real pleased when +Hill spoke up––just about voicing what all +the rest of us was thinking––saying he +was ready, after the way he’d played his +kindergarten hand, to put his pile on Santa +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span> +Fé Charley to make iced drinks in +hell!</p> +<p>Of course Hill oughtn’t to have spoke like +that. But allowances was to be made for +Hill––owing to the ways he’d got into driving +mules.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span> +<a name='V_BOSTONS_LIONHUNT' id='V_BOSTONS_LIONHUNT'></a> +<h2>V</h2> +<h3>BOSTON’S LION-HUNT</h3> +</div> +<p>As I’ve said, folks in Palomitas +mostly got for names what +happened to come handiest +and fitted. Likely that dude’s +cuffs was marked with something +he was knowed by; but as most of us +wasn’t particular what his cuffs was marked, +or him either, we just called him Boston––after +the town he made out he belonged to––and +let it go at that. Big game was what he +said he was looking for: and Santa Fé +Charley, with Shorty Smith and others helping, +saw to it he got all he wanted and some +over––but I reckon the exercises would a-been +less spirited if the Sage-Brush Hen +hadn’t chipped in and played a full hand.</p> +<p>He was one of the sporting kind, Boston +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span> +was, that turned up frequent in the Territory +in them days. Most of ’em was friends +of officers at some of the posts, with a sprinkling +throwed in of sons and nephews of +directors of the road. Big game was what +they all made out they come for; and they +was apt to have about as much use for big +game––when they happened to find any––as +a cat has for two tails. But they seemed +to enjoy letting off ca’tridges––and used to +buy what skins was in the market to take +home.</p> +<p>Boston turned out to be a nephew––nephews +was apt to be worse’n sons for stuck-upness––and +he come in one morning in a +private car hitched onto the Denver train. +He had a colored man along to cook and +clean his guns for him––he had more things +to shoot with, and of more shapes and sizes, +than you ever seen in one place outside of a +gun-store––and he was dressed that nice in +green corduroys, with new-fangled knives and +hunting fixings hanging all over him like he +was a Christmas-tree, he might have hired +out for a show. He wasn’t a bad set-up +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span> +young feller; but with them green clothes +on, and being clean shaved and wearing +eye-glasses, he did look just about what he +truly was.</p> +<p>Wood had a wire a director’s nephew was +coming––he was the agent, Wood was––and +orders to side-track his car and see he was +took care of; and of course Wood passed the +word along to the rest of us what sort of a +game was on. But he begged so hard, Wood +did, the town would hold itself in––saying if +rigs was put up on a director’s nephew he +was dead sure to lose his job––we all allowed +we’d give the young feller a day or two to +turn round in, anyway; and we promised +Wood––who was liked––we’d let the critter +get through his hunting picnic without putting +up no rigs on him if he made any sort +of a show of knowing how to behave. Howsomedever, +he didn’t––and things started up, +and nobody but Boston himself to blame for +it, that very first night over in the bar-room +at the Forest Queen.</p> +<p>He had Wood in to supper with him in his +car, Boston did, the darky cooking it; and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span> +Wood said––except it begun with their having +pickled green plums, and some sort of +messed-up stuff that tasted like spoilt salt +fish and made him feel sickish––it was the +best supper he ever eat. Each of ’em had +a bottle of iced wine, he said; and he said +they topped off with coffee that only wanted +milk to make it a real wonder, and a drink +like rock-and-rye, but chalks better, and such +seegars as he’d never smoked in his born +days.</p> +<p>All the time they was hashing––and Wood +said he reckoned they was at it a’most a +full hour––Boston kept a-telling what a hell +of a one (that was the sort of careless way +Wood put it) he was at big-game hunting; +but Wood judged––taking all his talk together––the +only thing he’d ever really shot +bigger’n a duck or a pa’tridge was a deer +the dogs had chased into a pond for him so +it hadn’t no chance. But it wasn’t none of +Wood’s business to stop a director’s nephew +from blowing if he felt like it, and so he just +let him fan away. Bears wasn’t bad sport, +he said, and he didn’t mind filling in time +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span> +with ’em if he couldn’t get nothing better; +but what he’d come to Palomitas for ’special, +he said, was mountain-lions––he seemed to +have it in his head he’d find ’em walking all +over the place, same as cats––and he wanted +to know if any’d lately been seen.</p> +<p>Wood told him them animals wasn’t met +with frequent in them parts (and they wasn’t, +for a fact, and hadn’t been for about a hunderd +years, likely) and maybe he’d do better +to set his mind on jack-rabbits––which there +was enough of out in the sage-brush, Wood +told him, to load his car. And then he +looked so real down disappointed, seeming +to think jack-rabbits wasn’t anyways satisfactory, +Wood said he told him there was +chances some of the boys over at the Forest +Queen––they being all the time out in the +mountains looking for prospects––might put +him on to finding a bear, anyway; and it +wouldn’t do no harm to go across to the +Queen and ask. And so over the both of +’em come.</p> +<p>It was Wood’s mistake bringing that green-corduroyed +pill right in among the boys without +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span> +giving notice, and Wood owned up it was +later––allowing he’d a-been more careful if +the rock-and-rye stuff on top of the wine, not +being used to either of ’em, hadn’t loaded +him more’n he knowed about at the time. +Boston didn’t seem to be much loaded, likely +having the habit of taking such drinks and +so being able to carry ’em; but he was that +high-horsey––putting on his eye-glasses and +staring ’round the place same as if he’d +struck a menagerie and the boys was beasts +in cages––all hands was set spiteful to him +right off.</p> +<p>Things was running about as usual at the +Queen: most of the boys setting around the +table and Santa Fé dealing; a few of ’em +standing back of the others looking on; two +or three getting drinks at the bar and talking +to Blister; and the girls kicking their +heels on the benches, waiting till it come +time to start up dancing in the other room. +The only touch out of the common was the +way the Sage-Brush Hen had fixed herself––she +being rigged up in the same white duds +she’d wore when Hart’s aunt come to town, +and looking so real cute and pretty in ’em, +and acting demure to suit, nobody’d ever +a-sized her for the gay old licketty-split Hen +she was.</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_5' id='linki_5'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/p0132-insert.jpg' alt='' title='' width='364' height='544' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +“STARING ’ROUND THE PLACE SAME AS IF HE’D STRUCK A MENAGERIE”<br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span></div> +<p>It was between deals when Wood and +Boston come in, and Santa Fé got up from +the table and crossed over to ’em––Charley +always was that polite you’d a-thought he +was a fish-hook with pants on––and told +Boston he hoped he seen him well, and was +glad he’d come along. Then Wood told how +he was after mountain-lions, and wasn’t likely +to get none; and Charley owned up they was +few, and what there was of ’em was so sort +of scattered the chances for finding ’em was +poor.</p> +<p>Boston didn’t say much of nothing at first, +seeming to be took up with trying to make +out where Santa Fé belonged to––hitching on +his eye-glasses and looking him over careful, +but only getting puzzleder the more he stared. +You see, Charley––in them black clothes and +a white tie on––looked for certain sure like +he was a minister; and there he was getting +up red-hot from dealing faro, and having on +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span> +each side of where he set at the table a forty-five +gun. It was more of a mix-up than +Boston could manage, and you could see he +didn’t know where he was at. Howsomedever, +Wood had told him he’d better make +out to be friendly, and take just what happened +to come along without asking no +questions; and I reckon the shoat really +meant, as well as he knowed how to, to do +what he was told. So he give up trying to +size Santa Fé, and said back to him he was +obliged and was feeling hearty; and then he +took to grinning, like as if he wanted to +make things pleasant, and says: “Really, I +am very much interested in my surroundings. +This place has quite the air of being a +barbarian Monte Carlo. It really has, you +know.”</p> +<p>That was a non-plusser for Charley––and +Santa Fé wasn’t non-plustered often, and +didn’t like it when he was––but he pulled +himself together and put down what cards +he had: telling Boston monte was a game +he sometimes played with friends for amusement––which +was the everlasting truth, only +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span> +the friends mostly was less amused than he +was––and he’d had a dog named Carlo, he +said, when he was a boy.</p> +<p>Boston seemed to think that was funny, +and took to snickering sort of superior. He +was about a full dose for uppishness, that +young feller was: going on as if he’d bought +the Territory, and as if the folks in it was +the peones he’d took over––Mexican fashion––along +with the land. Then he said he guessed +Santa Fé did not ketch his meaning, and +Monte Carlo was the biggest gambling hell +there was.</p> +<p>Being in the business, Santa Fé was apt +to get peevish when anybody took to talking +about gambling; and Boston’s throwing in +hell on top of it that way was more’n he +cared to stand. He didn’t let on––at least +not so the fool could see it––his dander was +started, setting on himself being one of the +things his work trained him to; but the boys +noticed he begun to get palish up at the top +of his forehead––where there was a white +streak between his hair and where his hat +come––and all hands knowed that for a bad +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span> +sign. Boston, of course––being strangers +with him––didn’t know what Charley’s signs +was; and he just kept on a-talking as fresh +as his green clothes.</p> +<p>“Not less psychologically than sociologically,” +says he, “is it interesting to find in +this slum of the wilderness the degenerate +Old-World vices in crude New-World garb. +Here,” says he, jerking his head across to +the table, “is a coarse reproduction of Monaco’s +essence; and there, I observe, are other +repulsive features equally coarse”––and he +jerked his head over to where Shorty Smith +was setting up drinks for Carrots at the +bar.</p> +<p>“If you dare to say one word more about +my features, young man,” says Carrots––having +a pug-nose, Carrots was techy about +her features; and she had a temper the same +color as her hair––“I’ll smack you in the +mouth!”</p> +<p>“And Oi’ll smack your whole domn head +off!” put in Blister Mike. “D’you think +Oi’m going to have ladies drinking at my +bar insulted by slush like you?” And Blister +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span> +reached down to where he kept it among the +tumblers to get his gun.</p> +<p>It looked as if there was going to be a +ruction right off. There was Carrots red-hotter +than her hair; and Blister, who was +special friends with Carrots, shooting mad +at having anybody sassing her; and Santa +Fé’s forehead getting whiter and whiter; and +all hands on their hind legs at having Palomitas +called a slum of the wilderness––and +likely worse things said about the place in +words nobody’d ever heard tell of longer’n +your arm. The only one keeping quiet was +Wood. He was sure, Wood was, trouble +was coming beyond his stopping; and as he +knowed which side his bread was buttered, +and how he’d be fired from his job if things +happened to go serious, he just went and sat +down in a corner and swore to himself sorrowful, +and was about the miserablest-looking +man you ever seen alive. I guess it +was more’n anything else being pitiful for +Wood made things take the turn they did +when the Sage-Brush Hen come into the +game.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span></div> +<p>“Now you all hear <i>me</i>!” the Hen sung out +sudden––and as the Hen wasn’t much given +to no such public speaking, and the boys was +used to doing quick what she wanted when +she asked for it, everybody stopped talking +and Blister put his gun down on the bar. +Most of us, I reckon, had a feeling the Hen +was going to let things out in some queer +way she’d thought of in that funny head of +hers––same as she’d done other times when +matters was getting serious––and we all was +ready to help her with any skylarking she +was up to that would put a stop to the +rumpus and so get Wood out of his hole. +As for Boston––being too much of a fool to +know what he’d done to start such a racket––he +was all mazed-up by it: staring straight +ahead of him like a horse with staggers, and +looking like he wished he’d never been +born.</p> +<p>“You all hear <i>me</i>, I tell you!” says the +Hen, taking a-hold of Boston’s arm sort of +motherly. “While I am the school-teacher +in Palomitas I shall not permit you boys to +play your pranks on strangers; and ’specially +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span> +not on this gentleman––whom I claim as a +friend of mine because we both come from +the same dear old town.”</p> +<p>That was the first time anybody’d ever +heard the Hen wasn’t hatched-out in Kansas +City. But it didn’t seem as if calling +her hand would be gentlemanly, so nobody +said nothing; and off she went again––talking +this time to Boston, but winking the eye +away from him at the boys.</p> +<p>“It is merely a joke, sir,” says the Hen, +“that these young men are playing on you––and +as silly a joke as silly can be. Sometimes, +in spite of my most earnest efforts to +stop them, they will go on in this foolish +way: pretending to be wild and wicked and +murderous and all such nonsense, when in +reality there is not a single one among them +who willingly would hurt a fly. What Miss +Mortimer said about smacking you, as I +hardly need to explain, was a joke too. +Dear Miss Mortimer! She is as full of fun +as a kitten, and as sweet and gentle”––Carrots, +not seeing what the Hen was driving +at, all the time was looking like a red-headed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span> +thunder-storm––“as the kindest-hearted kitten +that ever was!</p> +<p>“And now, I assure you, sir, this reprehensible +practical joking––for which I beg +your indulgence––definitely is ended; and I +am glad to promise that you will find in +evidence, during the remainder of your stay +in Palomitas, only the friendliness and the +courtesy which truly are the essential characteristics +of our seemingly turbulent little +town.”</p> +<p>The Hen stopped for a minute to get her +wind back––which give the boys a chance +to study over what they was told they was, +and what kind of a town it turned out to be +they was living in––and then off she went +again, saying: “I beg that you will pardon +me, sir, for addressing you so informally, +without waiting for an introduction. We +do not always stand strictly on etiquette +here in Palomitas; and I saw that I had to +put my cards down quick––I mean that I +had to intervene hurriedly––to save you +from being really annoyed. Now that I have +cleared up the trifling misunderstanding, I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span> +trust satisfactorily, we will go back to where +we ought to have started and I will ask Mr. +Charles to introduce us.” And round she +cracked to Santa Fé and says: “Will you be +so kind as to introduce my fellow-townsman +to me, Mr. Charles?”</p> +<p>Santa Fé had begun to get a little cooled +off by that time; and, like as not––it was a +wonder the way them two passed cards to +each other––the Hen give him some sort of +a look that made him suspicion what her +game was. Anyway, into it he come––saying +to Boston, talking high-toned and polite +like he knowed how to: “I have much +pleasure, sir, in presenting you to Miss Sage, +who is Palomitas’s idol––and a near relative, +as you may be interested in knowing, of the +eminent Eastern capitalist of the same name. +As she herself has mentioned, Miss Sage is +our school-teacher; but her modest cheek +would be suffused with blushes were I to tell +you how much more she is to us––how broadly +her generous nature prompts her to construe +her duties as the instructress of innocent +youth. Only a moment ago you had an +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span> +opportunity for observing that her word is +our law paramount. I am within bounds in +saying, sir, that in Palomitas she is universally +adored.”</p> +<p>“Oh, Mr. Charles! How can you!” says +the Hen, kind of turning away and looking +as if what Charley’d said really had made +her feel like blushing a little. Then she +faced round again and shook hands with +Boston––who was so rattled he seemed only +about half awake, and done it like a pump––and +says to him: “Mr. Charles is a born flatterer +if ever there was one, sir, and you must +pay no attention whatever to his extravagant +words. I only try in my poor way, as +occasion presents itself”––she let her voice +drop down so it went sort of soft and ketchy––“to +mollify some of the harsher asperities +of our youthfully strenuous community; to +apply, as it were, the touchstone of Boston +social standards––the standards that you and +I, sir, recognize––to the sometimes too rough +ways of our rough little frontier settlement. +It is true, though, and I am proud to say it, +that the boys do like me––of course Mr. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span> +Charles’s talk about my being an idol and +adored is only his nonsense; and it is true +that they always are nice about doing what +I ask them to do––as they were just now, +when they were naughty and I had to make +them behave.</p> +<p>“And now, since the formalities have been +attended to and we have been introduced +properly, and since you and I are fellow-Bostonians +and ought to be friendly”––the +Hen give him one of them fetching looks of +hers––“you must come over to the bar and +have a drink on me. And while we are performing +this rite of hospitality,” says the +Hen––pretending not to see the jump he give––“we +can discuss your projected lion-hunt: +in which, with your permission, I shall take +part.” Boston give a bigger jump at that; +and the Hen says on to him, sort of explaining +matters: “You need not fear that I shall +not sustain my end of the adventure. As +any of the boys here will tell you, I can handle +a forty-five or a Winchester about as well as +anybody––and big-game hunting really is my +forte. Indeed, I may say––using one of our +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span> +homely but expressive colloquialisms––that +when it comes to lion-hunting I am simply +hell!”</p> +<p>Boston seemed to be getting worse and +worse mixed while the Hen was rattling her +stuff off to him––and I reckon, all things considered, +he wasn’t to be blamed. He’d got +a jolt to start with, when he come in and +found what he took to be a preacher dealing +faro; and he was worse jolted when his fool-talk––and +he not knowing how he’d done it––run +him so close up against a shooting-scrape. +But the Hen was the limit: she +looking and acting like the school-ma’am she +said she was, and yet tangled up in a bar-room +with a lot of gamblers and such as +Kerosene Kate and old Tenderfoot Sal and +Carrots––and then bringing the two ends +together by talking one minute like he was +used to East, and the next one wanting to +set up drinks for him and telling him she +knowed all there was to know about gun-handling +and how at lion-hunting she was +just hell! I guess he was more’n half excusable, +that young feller was, for looking +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span> +like he couldn’t be counted on for telling for +certain on which end of him was his heels!</p> +<p>What he did manage to work out clear in +that fool head of his was he had the chance +to get the drink he needed, and needed bad, +to brace him; so over he come with the Hen +to the bar and got it––and it seemed to do +him some good. Then Carrots––who’d begun +to ketch on a little to what the Hen was +after––spoke up and told him it was true +what Miss Sage had told him about her +kittenishness, and she hadn’t meant nothing +when she was talking about smacking him; +and to show he had no hard feeling, she said, +he must have one on her. Then Blister +Mike, having sized matters up, chipped in +too: saying it would make him feel comfortabler––having +done some joking himself +by talking the way he did and getting his +gun out––if they’d all have one on the bar.</p> +<p>As drinks in Palomitas was sighted for a +thousand yards, and carried to kill further, +by the time Boston had three of ’em in him––on +top of the ones he’d had with Wood at +supper––he was loaded enough to be careless +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span> +about what was happening among the sunspots +and ready to take things pretty much +as they come along. The boys was ready +for what might be coming too: allowing for +sure the Hen was getting a circus started, +and only waiting to follow suit to the cards +she put down.</p> +<p>What was needed, it turned out, was +stacked with Shorty Smith; and the Hen +sort of picked up Shorty with her eyes and +says to him: “Your little boy Gustavus––he +is <i>such</i> a dear little fellow, and I do love him +so!––was telling me at recess to-day, Mr. +Smith, that you saw a lion when you were +out in the mountains day before yesterday +prospecting. I think that very likely you +may have seen the fierce creature even more +recently; and perhaps you will have the +kindness to tell us”––the Hen winked her +off eye at Shorty to show him what was +wanted––“where he probably may be found +at the present time?”</p> +<p>Some of the boys couldn’t help snickering +right out when the Hen took to loading up +Shorty with little Gustavuses; but Boston +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span> +didn’t notice nothing, and Shorty––who had +wits as sharp as pin-points, and could be +counted on for what cards was needed in the +kind of game the Hen was playing––put down +the ace she asked for and never turned a hair.</p> +<p>“Gustavus will be tickled out of his little +boots, Miss,” says Shorty, “when I tell him +how nice you’ve spoke about him; and I’m +much obliged myself. He give it to you +straight, the kid did, about that lion. I seen +him, all right––and so close up it most scared +the life out of me! And you’re right, Miss, +in thinking I’ve ketched onto him since––seeing +I was a blame sight nearer to him than +I wanted to be less’n four hours ago. Yes, +ma’am, as I was coming in home to-night +from the Cañada I struck that animal’s tracks +in the mud down by the ford back of the +deepo––he’d been down to the river for a +drink, I reckon––and they was so fresh he +couldn’t a-been more’n five minutes gone. +When I got to thinking what likely might +a-happened if I’d come along them five +minutes sooner, Miss, I had cold creeps crawling +all up and down the spine of my back!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span></div> +<p>Them statements of Shorty’s set the boys +to snickering some more––there not being no +ford on the Rio Grande this side of La Chamita, +and the wagon-bridge being down back +of the deepo where he said his ford was––but +Shorty paid no attention, and went on as +smooth as if he was speaking a piece he’d +got by heart.</p> +<p>“As you know, Miss, being such a hunter,” +says he––making up what happened to be +wanted about lions, same as he’d done about +fords––“them animals takes a drink every +four hours in the night-time as regular as if +they looked at their watches. Likely that +feller’s bedded just a little way back in the +chaparral so’s to be handy for his next one; +and I reckon if this sport here feels he needs +lions”––Shorty give his head a jerk over to +Boston––“he’ll get one by looking for it right +now. But for the Lord’s sake, Miss, don’t +you think of taking a hand in tackling him! +He’s a most a-terrible big one––the out and +out biggest I ever seen. The first thing you +knowed about it, he’d a-gulped you down +whole!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span></div> +<p>“How you do go on, Mr. Smith!” says the +Hen, laughing pleasant. “Have you so soon +forgotten our hunt together last winter––when +I came up and shot the grizzly in the +ear just as he had you down and was beginning +to claw you? And are you not ashamed +of yourself, after that, to say that any lion +is too big for me?”</p> +<p>Without stopping for Shorty to strain +himself trying to remember that bear-hunt, +round she cracked to Boston––giving Shorty +and Santa Fé a chance to get in a corner and +talk quick in a whisper––and says to him: +“We just <i>are</i> in luck! These big old ones +are the real fighters, you know. Only a +year ago there was a gentleman from the +East here on a lion-hunt––it was his first, +and he did not seem to know quite how to +manage matters––and one of these big fierce +ones caught him and finished him. It was +very horrible! The dreadful creature sprang +on him in the dark and almost squeezed him +to death, and then tore him to pieces while +he still was alive enough to feel it, and ended +by eating so much of him that only a few +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span> +scraps of him were left to send East to his +friends. This one seems to be just that +kind. Isn’t it splendid! What superb sport +we shall have in getting him––you and I!”</p> +<p>What the Hen had to say about the way +lions done business––’specially their eating +hunters like they was sandwiches on a free-lunch +counter––seemed to take some of the +load off Boston, and as he got soberer he +wasn’t so careless as he’d been. From his +looks it was judged he was thinking a lion +some sizes smaller would be a better fit for +him; but he couldn’t well say so––with the +Hen going on about wanting hers as big as +they made ’em––so he took a brace, and sort +of swelled himself out, and said the bigger +this one was the better he’d be pleased.</p> +<p>“But I cannot permit you, my dear young +lady,” he says, “to share with me the great +danger incident to pursuing so ferocious a +creature. I alone must deal with it. To-morrow +I shall familiarize myself with the +locality where Mr. Smith has found its tracks; +and to-morrow night, or the night after––as +the weather may determine. Of course nothing +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span> +can be done in case of rain––I will seek +the savage brute in its lair. And then we +shall find out”––Boston worked up as much +as he could of a grin, but it seemed to come +hard and didn’t fit well––“which of us shall +have the other’s skin!”</p> +<p>“Danger for me!” says the Hen, giving +him another of them looks of hers. “Just +as though I would not be as safe, with a brave +man like you to protect me, as I am teaching +school! And to-morrow night, indeed! Do +you think lions are like dentists––only the +other way round about the teeth!” and the +Hen laughed hearty––“and you can make +appointments with them a week ahead! +Why, we must be off, you and I, this very +minute! I’ll run right round home and get +my rifle––and meet you at your car as soon +as you’ve got yours. To think of our having +a lion this way almost sitting on the front-door +step! It’s a chance that won’t come +again in a thousand years!”</p> +<p>Away the Hen went a-kiting; and, there +not being no hole he could see to crawl out +of, away went Boston––only the schedule he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span> +run on was some miles less to the hour. To +make sure he didn’t try to side-track, Shorty +went with him––leaving Santa Fé to fix +matters with the Hen, and do what talking +was needed to ring in the boys.</p> +<p>Shorty put through his part in good shape: +helping Boston get as many of his guns as +he thought was wanted to hunt lions with––which +was as many as he could pack along +with him––and managing sort of casual to +slip out the ca’tridges, so he wouldn’t hurt +nobody. It turned out Shorty needn’t a-been +so extry-precautious––but of course he +couldn’t tell. By the time Shorty had him +ready, the Hen come a-hustling up––having +finished settling things with Santa Fé––and +sung out to him to get a move on, or likely +the lion would a-had his drink and gone. +The move he got wasn’t much of a one; but +he did come a-creeping out of the car at +last, and having such a load of weepons +on him as give him some excuse for going +slow.</p> +<p>“Good luck to you!” says Shorty, and off +he skipped in a hurry to get at the rest of his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span> +part of the ceremonies––not paying no attention +to Boston’s most getting down on his +knees to him begging him to come along. +Then Boston wanted the colored man to come––who +was scared out of his black skin at the +notion, and wouldn’t; and if the Hen hadn’t +ended up by grabbing a-hold of him––saying +as it was dark, and she knowed the way and +he didn’t, she’d better lead him––likely she +wouldn’t a-got him started at all. Pulling +him was more like what she did than leading +him, the Hen said afterwards; but she didn’t +kick about his going slow and wanting to +stop every minute, she said, because it give +Santa Fé and Shorty more time.</p> +<p>The night was the kind that’s usual in New +Mexico, and just what was wanted. There +was no moon, and the starshine––all the +stars looked to be about the size of cheeses––give +a hazy sort of light that made everything +seem twice as big as it really was, and +shadows so black and solid you’d think you +could cut ’em in slices same as pies. And +it was so still you could a-heard a mouse +sneezing half a mile off. The rattling all +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span> +over him of Boston’s weepons sounded like +there was boilers getting rivetted close by.</p> +<p>The Hen yanked him along easy, but kept +him a-moving––and passed the time for him +by telling all she could make up about what +desprit critters lions was. Starting from +where his car was side-tracked, they went +round the deepo; and then down the wagon-road +pretty near to the bridge, but not so +near he could see it; and then across through +the sage-brush and clumps of mesquite till +they come to the river––where there was a +break in the bluff, and a flat place going on +down into the water that looked like it was +the beginning of a ford. For a fact, it was +where the Mexican women come to do their +clothes-washing, and just back from the +river was a little ’dobe house––flat-topped, +and the size and shape of a twelve-foot-square +dry-goods box––the women kept +their washing things in. But them was particulars +the Hen didn’t happen to mention to +Boston at the time.</p> +<p>When they come to the ’dobe she give him +a jerk, to show him he was to stand still there; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span> +and then she grabbed him close up to her, so +she could whisper, and says: “It was here +that Mr. Smith saw the ferocious animal’s +foot-marks almost precisely four hours ago. +The habits of these creatures are so regular, +as Mr. Smith mentioned, that this one certainly +will return for his next drink when +the four hours are ended––and so may be +upon us at any moment. I hope that we +may see him coming. If he saw us before +we saw him––well, it wouldn’t be nice at +all!”</p> +<p>The Hen let that soak in a little; and then +she snuggled up to Boston, all sort of shivery, +and says: “I wish that we had taken the +precaution to ask Mr. Smith from which +direction the tracks came. These lions, you +know, have a dreadful way of stealing up +close to you and then springing! That was +what happened to that poor young man. +So far as was known, his first notice of his +peril was finding himself crushed to the +ground beneath the creature’s weight––and +the next instant it was tearing him with its +teeth and claws. I––I begin to wish I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span> +hadn’t come!” And the Hen snuggled up +closer and shivered bad.</p> +<p>Boston seemed to be doing some shivers on +his own account, judging from the way his +guns rattled; and his teeth was so chattery +his talking come queer. But he managed to +get out that if they was inside the house +they’d have more chances––and he went to +work trying to open the door. When he +found he couldn’t––it being locked so good +there was no budging it––he got worse jolted, +and his breath seemed to be coming hard.</p> +<p>The Hen got a-hold of him again and +done some more shivers, and then she says: +“It all will be over, one way or the other, in +a very few moments now. And oh, how +thankful I am––since so needlessly and so +foolishly I have placed myself in this deadly +peril––that I have for my protector a brave +man! If salvation is possible, you will save +me I am sure!”</p> +<p>Boston tried to say something, but he’d +got so he was beyond talking and only gagged; +and while he was a-gagging there come a +queer noise––sounding like it was a critter +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span> +crawling around in among the bushes––that +made him most jump out of his skin! Down +went his guns on the ground all in a clatter; +and he was scared so limp he’d a-gone down +a-top of ’em if the Hen hadn’t got a good grip +on him with both arms. They stood that +way more’n a minute, with him a-shaking all +over and the Hen doing some shaking for +company––and then she hiked him round so +he pointed right and says: “Look! Look! +There by those little bushes! Oh how horrible!” +And the Hen give a groan.</p> +<p>What was wanted to be looked at was on +hand, right enough––and I reckon it showed +to most advantage by about as much light as +it got from the stars. All they could make +sure of was something alive, moving sort of +awkward and jumpy, coming out from a +tangle of mesquite bushes not more’n three +rods off and heading straight for ’em; and +seeing it the way they did––just a black +splotch all mixed in with the shadows of the +bushes––it looked to be most as big as a cow! +Limp as he was––so you’d a-thought there +wasn’t any yell in him––Boston let off a yell +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span> +that likely was heard clear across the mesa +at San Juan!</p> +<p>“Shoot!” says the Hen. “I can’t. I’m +too frightened. Shoot quick––or we are +lost!” She let go of him, so he could reach +down to where he’d spilled his gun-shop and +get a weepon; but Boston wasn’t on the shoot, +and he hadn’t no use for weepons just then. +All he wanted to do was to run; and if the +Hen hadn’t got a fresh grip on him and held +him––she was a strapping strong woman, the +Hen was––he would a-made a bolt for it +certain sure.</p> +<p>“No! No! Don’t attempt to run!” says +the Hen, talking scared and desprit. “In +an instant, should we turn our backs on him, +the terrible creature would be upon us with +one long cruel bound!”</p> +<p>From the way the terrible creature, as the +Hen called him, was a-going on––sort of +hopping up and down, and not making much +headway––it didn’t look as if long cruel +bounds was what he was most used to. But +Boston wasn’t studying the matter extra +careful, and as the Hen found he took pretty +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span> +much what she give him she just cracked +along.</p> +<p>“To run, I tell you,” says the Hen, “is +but to court the quicker coming of the torturing +death to which we are doomed. It +will come quick enough, anyway!”––and she +handed out a fresh lot of shivers, and throwed +in sobs. Then she give a jump, as if the +notion’d just struck her, and says: “There +is a chance for us! Up on the roof of this +house we may be safe. Lions can spring +enormous distances horizontally, you know; +but, save in exceptional cases, their vertical +jumping powers are restricted to a marked +degree. Quick! Put your foot in my hand +and let me start you. When you are up, you +can pull me up after you. Now then!”––and +the Hen reached her hand down so she could +get a-hold of Boston’s foot and give him a +send.</p> +<p>Her using them long words about the way +lions did their jumping––being the kind of +talk he was used to––seemed to sort of brace +him. Anyways––the lion helping hurry things +by just then giving another jump or two––he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span> +managed to have sense enough to put his +foot in the Hen’s hand, same as she told him; +and then she let out her muscle and give him +such an up-start he was landed on the roof +of the ’dobe afore he fairly knowed he’d +begun to go! Being landed, he just sprawled +out flat––and getting the Hen up after him +seemed to be about the last thing he had on +his mind.</p> +<p>“Help! Help!” sung out the Hen. “The +lion is almost on me! Give me your hand!” +But Boston wasn’t in no shape to give hands +to nobody. All he did was to kick his legs +about and let off groans.</p> +<p>“Oh, I understand, now,” says the Hen in +a minute. “You are crying out in the hope +of luring the creature into trying to reach +you––as he can, if he happens to be one of +the exceptional jumpers––and so give me a +chance to get away. How noble that is of +you! I shall take the chance, my brave +preserver, that your self-sacrifice gives me––and +I shall collect, and bedew with tears of +gratitude, all that the savage monster leaves +me of your bones! Heaven bless you––and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span> +good-bye!” And away the Hen cut––leaving +Boston high and dry on the roof of the ’dobe, +so scared he just lay there like a wet rag.</p> +<p>She didn’t cut far, the Hen didn’t. The +rest of us was a-setting around under the +mesquite bushes, and she joined the party +and set down too––stuffing her handkerchief +into her mouth, and holding both hands +jammed tight over it, to keep from yelling +out with the laugh that was pretty near +cracking her sides.</p> +<p>Then we all waited till daylight––with +Shorty, who had charge of the lion, working +that animal as seemed to be needed whenever +Boston quieted down with his groans. All +hands really enjoyed theirselves, and it was +one of the shortest nights I think I ever +knowed.</p> +<p>Daylight comes sudden in them parts. +One minute it’s so darkish you can’t see nothing––and +the next minute the sun comes up +with a bounce from behind the mountains +and things is all clear.</p> +<p>When the sun did his part of the work and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span> +give all the light was needed, we done ours––which +was coming out from among the mesquite +bushes and saying good-morning polite +to Boston, up on the roof of the ’dobe, and +then taking the hobbles off old man Gutierrez’s +jackass so it could walk away home.</p> +<p>The Hen felt she needed to have one more +shot, and she took it. “My brave preserver!” +says the Hen, speaking cheerful. +“Come down to me––that I may bedew with +tears of gratitude your bones!”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span> +<a name='VI_SHORTY_SMITHS_HANGING' id='VI_SHORTY_SMITHS_HANGING'></a> +<h2>VI</h2> +<h3>SHORTY SMITH’S HANGING</h3> +</div> +<p>Some of them summer days in +Palomitas was that hot they’d +melt the stuffing out of a lightning-rod, +and you could cook +eggs in the pockets of your +pants. When things was that way the town +was apt to get quieted down––most being +satisfied to take enough drinks early to make +it pleasant spending the rest of the day sleeping +’em off somewheres in the shade. Along +late in the afternoon, though, the wind always +breezed down real cool and pleasant +from the mountains––and then the boys +would wake up and get a brace on, and whatever +was going to happen would begin.</p> +<p>Being that sort of weather, nobody was +paying no attention worth speaking of to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span> +nothing: and when the Denver train come +in––being about three hours late, like it had +a way of being, after a wash-out––the place +was in such a blister that pretty much all +you could hear to show anybody was alive +in Palomitas was snores. Besides Wood––who +had to be awake to do his work when +the train got there––and the clump of Mexicans +that always hung around the deepo at +train-time, there wasn’t half a dozen folks +with their eyes open in the whole town.</p> +<p>Santa Fé Charley was one of the few that +was awake and sober. He made a point, +Santa Fé did, of being on hand when the +train come in because there always was +chances somebody might be aboard he could +do business with; and he had to keep sober, +mostly, same as I’ve said, or he couldn’t +a-done his work so it would pay. He used +to square things up––when he really couldn’t +stand the strain no longer––by knocking off +dealing and having a good one lasting about +a week at a time. It was while he was on +one of them tears of his, going it worse’n +usual, he got cleaned out in Denver Jones’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span> +place––and him able, when he hadn’t a jag +on, to wipe up the floor with Denver!––and +then went ahead the next day, being still +jagged, and shot poor old Bill Hart. But +them is matters that happened a little later, +and will be spoke of further on.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>When the train pulled in alongside the +deepo platform it didn’t seem at first there +was nobody on it but the usual raft of Mexicans +with bundles in the day-coach––who all +come a-trooping out, cluttered up with their +queer duds, and went to hugging their aunts +and uncles who was waiting for ’em in real +Mexican style. Charley looked the lot over +and seen there was nothing in it worth taking +time to; and then he got his Denver paper +from the messenger in the express-car and +started off to go on back to his room in the +Forest Queen.</p> +<p>Down he come along the platform––he was +a-looking at his <i>Tribune</i>, and not paying no +attention––and just as he got alongside the +Pullman a man stepped off it and most +plumped into him; and would a-plumped if +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span> +he hadn’t been so beat out by the hot weather +he was going slow. He was a little round +friendly looking feller, with a red face and +little gray side-whiskers; and he was dressed +up in black same as Charley was––only he’d +a shorter-tailed coat, and hadn’t a white tie +on, and was wearing a shiny plug hat that +looked most extra unsuitable in them parts +on that sort of a day.</p> +<p>“I beg your pardon, sir!” says the little +man, as he pulled himself up just in time to +keep from bumping.</p> +<p>Charley bowed handsome––there was no +ketching off Santa Fé when it come to slinging +good manners, his being that gentlemanly he +could a-give points to a New York bar-keep––and +says back: “Sir, I beg yours! Heedlessness +is my besetting sin. The fault is mine!” +And then he said, keeping on talking the +toney way he knowed how to: “I trust, sir, +that you are not incommoded by the heat. +Even for New Mexico in August, this is a +phenomenally hot day.”</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_6' id='linki_6'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/p0166-insert.jpg' alt='' title='' width='354' height='536' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +“‘IT’S HOTTER THAN SAHARA!’ SAID THE ENGLISHMAN”<br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span></div> +<p>“Incommoded is no name for it!” says the +little man, taking off his shiny hat and mopping +away at himself with his pocket-handkerchief. +“I’ve never encountered such heat +anywhere. It’s hotter than Sahara! In +England we have nothing like it at all.” +Then he mopped himself some more, and +went ahead again––seeming glad to have +somebody to let out to: “My whole life long +I’ve been finding fault with our August +weather in London. I’ll never find fault +with it again. I’d give fifty pounds to be +back there now, even in my office in the +City––and I’d give a hundred willingly if I +could walk out of this frying-pan into my +own home in the Avenue Road! If you +know London, sir, you know that St. John’s +Wood is the coolest part of it, and that +the coolest part of St. John’s Wood––up by +the side of Primrose Hill––is the Avenue +Road; and so you can understand why thinking +about coming out from the Underground +and walking homeward in the cool of the +evening almost gives me a pain!”</p> +<p>Santa Fé allowed he wasn’t acquainted +with that locality; but he said he hadn’t no +doubt––since you couldn’t get a worse one––it +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span> +was a better place in summer than Palomitas. +And then he kind of chucked it in +casual that as the little man didn’t seem to +take much stock in Palomitas maybe he’d +a-done as well if he’d stuck at home.</p> +<p>Charley’s talking that way brought out he +wasn’t there because he wanted to be, but +because he was sent: coming to look things +over for the English stockholders––who was +about sick, he said, of dropping assessments +in the slot and nothing coming out when +they pushed the button––before they chipped +in the fresh stake they was asked for to help +along with the building of the road. He said +he about allowed, though, the call was a +square one, what he’d seen being in the road’s +favor and as much as was claimed for it; but +when it come to the country and the people, +he said, there was no denying they both was +as beastly as they could be. Then he turned +round sudden on Santa Fé and says: “I infer +from your dress, sir, that you are in Orders; +and I therefore assume that you represent +what little respectability this town has. Will +you kindly tell me if it is possible in this +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span> +filthy place to procure a brandy-and-soda, +and a bath, and any sort of decent food?”</p> +<p>It always sort of tickled Santa Fé, same as +I’ve said, when a tenderfoot took him for a +fire-escape; and when it happened that way +he give it back to ’em in right-enough parson +talk. So he says to the little man, speaking +benevolent: “In our poor way, sir, we can +satisfy your requirements. At the Forest +Queen Hotel, over there, you can procure the +liquid refreshment that you name; and also +food as good as our little community affords. +As for your bath, we can provide it on a +scale of truly American magnificence. We +can offer you a tub, sir, very nearly two +thousand miles long!”</p> +<p>“A tub two thousand miles long?” says +the little man. “Oh, come now, you’re +chaffing me. There can’t be a tub like that, +you know. There really can’t!”</p> +<p>“I refer, sir,” says Santa Fé, “to the Rio +Grande.”</p> +<p>The little man took his time getting there, +but when he did ketch up he laughed hearty. +“How American that is!” says he. And +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span> +then he says over again: “How American +that is!”––and he laughed some more. Then +he said he’d start ’em to getting his grub +ready while he was bathing in that two-thousand-mile +bath-tub, and he’d have his +brandy-and-soda right away; and he asked +Charley––speaking doubtful, and looking at +his white necktie––if he’d have one too?</p> +<p>Charley said he just would; and it was +seeing how sort of surprised the little man +looked, he told the boys afterwards, set him +to thinking he might as well kill time that hot +day trying how much stuffing that sort of a +tenderfoot would hold. He said at first he +only meant to play a short lone hand for the +fun of the thing; and it was the way the little +man swallowed whatever was give him, he +said, that made the game keep on a-growing––till +it ended up by roping in the whole +town. So off he went, explaining fatherly +how it come that preachers and brandys-and-sodas +in Palomitas got along together first +class.</p> +<p>“In this wildly lawless and sinful community, +sir,” says he, “I find that my humble +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span> +efforts at moral improvement are best advanced +by identifying my life as closely as +may be with the lives of those whom I would +lead to higher planes. At first, in my ignorance, +I held aloof from participating in +the customs––many of them, seemingly, +objectionable––of my parishioners. Naturally, +in turn, they held aloof from me. I +made no impression upon them. The good +seed that I scattered freely fell upon barren +ground. Now, as the result of experience, +and of much soulful thought, I am wiser. +Over a friendly glass at the bar of the Forest +Queen, or at other of the various bars in our +little town, I can talk to a parishioner with a +kindly familiarity that brings him close to me. +By taking part in the games of chance which +form the main amusement of my flock, I still +more closely can identify their interests with +my own––and even materially improve, by +such winnings as come to me in our friendly +encounters, our meagre parish finances. I +have as yet taken no share in the gun-fights +which too frequently occur in our somewhat +tempestuous little community; but I am +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span> +seriously considering the advisability of still +farther strengthening my hold upon the respect +and the affection of my parishioners by +now and then exchanging shots with them. I +am confident that such energetic action on +my part will tend still more to endear me to +them––and, after all, I must not be too nicely +fastidious as to means if I would compass +my end of winning their trust and their +esteem.”</p> +<p>While Santa Fé was talking along so slick +about the way he managed his parsoning, the +little man’s eyes was getting bulgier and +bulgier; and when it come to his taking a +hand in shooting-scrapes they looked like +they was going to jump out of his head. All +he could say was: “Good Lord!” Then he +kind of gagged, and said he’d be obliged if he +could get his brandy-and-soda right off.</p> +<p>Charley steered him across to the Forest +Queen, and when he had his drink in him, +and another on top of it, he seemed to get +some of his grip back. But even after his +drinks he seemed like he thought he must be +asleep and dreaming; and he said twice over +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span> +he’d never heard tell of such doings in all his +born days.</p> +<p>Santa Fé just give a wink across the bar to +Blister Mike––who didn’t need much winking, +being a wide-awake one––and then he +went ahead with some more of the same kind. +“No doubt, my dear sir, in the older civilization +to which you are accustomed my methods +would seem irregular––perhaps even +reprehensible. In England, very likely, unfavorable +comment would be made upon a +pastor who cordially drank with members of +his flock at public bars; who also––I do not +hesitate, you see, to give our little games of +chance their harshest name––in a friendly +way gambled with them; and I can imagine +that the spectacle of a parish priest engaging +with his parishioners, up and down the street +of a quiet village, in a fight with six-shooters +and Winchesters would be very generally +disapproved.”</p> +<p>“It is impossible, quite impossible,” says +the little man, sort of gaspy, “to imagine +such a horrible monstrosity!”</p> +<p>“Very likely for you, sir,” says Charley, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span> +speaking affable, “it is. But you must remember +that ours is a young and a vigorous +community––too young, too vigorous, to be +cramped and trammelled by obsolete conventions +and narrow Old-World rules. Life +with us, you see, has an uncertain suddenness––owing +to our energetic habit of settling our +little differences promptly, and in a decisive +way. At the last meeting of our Sunshine +Club, for instance––as the result of a short +but heated argument––Brother Michael, here, +felt called upon to shoot a fellow-member. +While recognizing that the occurrence was +unavoidable, we regretted it keenly––Brother +Michael most of all.”</p> +<p>“Sure I did that,” said Blister, playing out +quick to the lead Charley give him. “But +your Reverence remembers he drew on me +first––and if he’d been sober enough to shoot +straight it’s meself, and not him, would be +by now living out in the cemetery on the +mesa; and another’d be serving your drinks +to you across this bar. I had the rights on +my side.”</p> +<p>“Precisely,” says Charley. “You see, sir, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span> +it was a perfectly fair fight. Brother Michael +and his fellow-member exchanged their shots +in an honorable manner––and, while we +mourn the sudden decease of our friend lost +to us, our friend who survives has suffered +no diminution of our affectionate regard. +Had the shooting been unfair, then the case +would have gone into another category––and +our community promptly would have manifested +the sturdy sense of justice that is inherent +in it by hanging the man by whom +the unfair shot had been fired. Believe me, +sir”––and Santa Fé stood up straight and +stuck his chest out––“Palomitas has its own +high standards of morality: and it never +fails to maintain those standards in its own +stern way!”</p> +<p>The little man didn’t say nothing back. +He looked like he was sort of mazed. All he +did was to ask for another brandy-and-soda; +and when he’d took it he allowed he’d skip +having his bath and get at his eating right +away––saying he was feeling faintish, and +maybe what he needed was food. Of course +that was no time of day to get victuals: but +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span> +Santa Fé was a good one at managing, and +he fixed it up so he had some sort of a hash +layout; and before he went at it he give him +a wash-up in his own room.</p> +<p>It was while he was hashing, Charley said, +the notion come to him how Palomitas might +have some real sport with him––the same kind +they had when Hart’s aunt come on her visit, +only twisting things round so it would be the +holy terror side of the town that had the +show. And he said as he’d started in with +the preacher racket, he thought they might +keep that up too––and make such an out and +out mix-up for the little man as would give +cards to any tenderfoot game that ever was +played. Santa Fé always was full of his +pranks: and this one looked to pan out so +well, and was so easy done, that he went right +across to the deepo and had a talk with Wood +about how things had better be managed; +and Wood, who liked fun as much as anybody, +caught on quick and agreed to take a +hand.</p> +<p>The little man seemed to get a brace when +he had his grub inside of him; and over he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span> +went to the deepo and give Wood the order +he had from the President to see the books––and +was real intelligent, Wood said, in finding +out how railroading in them parts was done. +But when he’d cleaned up his railroad job, +and took to asking questions about the +Territory, and Palomitas, and things generally––and +got the sort of answers Santa +Fé had fixed should be give him, with some +more throwed in––Wood said his feet showed +to be that tender he allowed it would a-hurt +him with thick boots on to walk on boiled +beans.</p> +<p>Wood said he guessed he broke the lying +record that afternoon; and he said he reckoned +if the little man swallowed half of what was +give him, and there wasn’t much of anything +he gagged at, he must a-thought Palomitas––with +its church twice Sundays and prayer-meetings +regular three times a week, and its +faro-bank with the preacher for dealer, and +its Sunshine Club that was all mixed in with +shooting-scrapes, and its Friendly Aid Society +that attended mostly to what lynchings was +needed––was something like a bit of heaven +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span> +that had broke out from the corral it belonged +in and gone to grazing in hell’s front yard!</p> +<p>When he’d stuffed him as much as was +needed, Wood told him––Santa Fé having +fixed it that way––there was a Mexican +church about a thousand years old over in the +Cañada that was worth looking at; and he +told him he’d take him across on his buck-board +to see it if he cared to go. He bit at +that, just as Santa Fé counted on; and about +four o’clock off they went––it was only three +mile or so down to the Cañada––in good time +to get him back and give him what more was +coming to him before he started off North +again on the night train. Wood said the ride +was real enjoyable––the little man showing +up as sensible as anybody when he got to the +church and struck things he knowed about; +and it turned out he could talk French, and +that pleased the padre––he was that French +one I’ve spoke about, who was as white as +they make ’em––and so things went along well.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>The wind had set in to blow down the +valley cool and pleasant as they was getting +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span> +along home; and coming down on it, when +they got about half a mile from Palomitas, +they begun to hear shooting––and it kept on, +and more of it, the closer they come to town. +Knowing what Santa Fé had set the boys up +to, Wood said he pretty near laughed out +when he heard it; but he held in, he said––and +told the little man, when he asked what +it meant, that it didn’t mean nothing in particular: +being only some sort of a shooting-scrape, +like enough––the same as often happened +along about that time in the afternoon.</p> +<p>He said the little man looked queerish, +and wanted to know if the men in the town +was shooting at a target; and when Wood said +he guessed they was targetting at each other, +and likely there’d be some occurrences, he +said he looked queerisher––and said such +savagery was too horrible to be true. But +he wasn’t worried a bit about himself, Wood +said––he was as nervy a little man, Wood +said, as he’d ever got up to––and all he wanted +was to have Wood whip the mules up, +so he’d get there quick and see what was +going on. Wood whipped up, right enough, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span> +and the mules took ’em a-kiting––going at a +full run the last half-mile or so, and not coming +down to a walk till they’d crossed the +bridge over the Rio Grande and was most to +the top of the hill. At the top of the hill +they stopped––and that was a good place to +stop at, for the circus was a-going on right +there.</p> +<p>Things really did look serious; and Wood +said––for all he’d been told what was coming––he +more’n half thought the boys had got to +rumpussing in dead earnest. Three or four +was setting on the ground with their sleeves +and pants rolled up tying up their arms and +legs with their pocket-handkerchiefs; there +was a feller––Nosey Green, it turned out to be––laying +on one side in a sort of mixed-up +heap like as if he’d dropped sudden; right in +the middle of the road Blister Mike was +sprawled out, with Santa Fé––his black +clothes all over dust and his hat off––holding +his head with one hand and feeling at his +heart with the other; and just as the buck-board +stopped, right in the thick of it, +Kerosene Kate come a-tearing along, with the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span> +Sage-Brush Hen close after her, and plumped +down on Mike and yelled out: “Oh, my husband! +My poor husband! He is foully +slain!”</p> +<p>It was all so natural, Wood said, that seeing +it sudden that way give him a first-class +jolt. For a minute, he said, he couldn’t +help thinking it was the real thing. As for +the little man––and he likely would have +took matters just the same, and no blame to +him, if his feet had been as hard as anybody’s––he +swallowed the show whole. “Good +Heavens!” says he, getting real palish. +“What a dreadful thing this is!”</p> +<p>Santa let go of Mike’s head and got up, +brushing his pants off, and says solemn: +“Our poor brother has passed from us. +Palomitas has lost one of its most useful +citizens––there was nobody who could mix +drinks as he could––and the world has lost a +noble man! Take away his stricken wife, +my dear,” he says, speaking to the Sage-Brush +Hen. “Take poor Sister Rebecca +home with you to the parsonage––my duties +lie elsewhere at present––and pour out to her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span> +from your tender heart the balm of comfort +that you so well know how to give.”</p> +<p>Then he come along to the buck-board, +and says to the little man: “I greatly regret +that this unfortunate incident should have +occurred while you are with us. From +every point of view the event is lamentable. +Brother Green, known familiarly among us +because of his facial peculiarity as Nosey +Green––the gentleman piled up over there on +the other side of the road––was as noble-hearted +a man as ever lived; so was Brother +Michael, whom you met in all the pride of his +manly strength only this morning at the +Forest Queen bar. Both were corner-stones +of our Sunshine Club, and among the most +faithful of my parishioners. In deep despondency +we mourn their loss!”</p> +<p>“It is dreadful––dreadful!” says the little +man. And then he wanted to know how the +shooting begun.</p> +<p>“The dispute that has come to this doubly +fatal ending,” says Santa Fé, shaking his +head sorrowful, “related to cock-tails. In +what I am persuaded was a purely jesting +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span> +spirit, Brother Green cast aspersions upon +Brother Michael’s skill as a drink-mixer. The +injustice of his remarks, even in jest, aroused +Brother Michael’s hot Celtic nature and led +to a retort, harshly personal, that excited +Brother Green’s anger––and from words they +passed quickly to a settlement of the matter +with their guns. However, as the fight was +conducted by both of them in an honorable +manner, and was creditable equally to their +courage and to their proficiency in the use +of arms, it is now a back number and we may +discharge it from our minds. Moreover, my +dear sir, our little domestic difficulties must +not be suffered to interfere with the duties +of hospitality. It is high time that you +should have your supper; and I even venture +to ask that you will hurry your meal a little––to +the end that you may have opportunity, +before the departure of your train this evening, +to see something of the brighter side of +our little town. After this sombre scene, +you will find, I trust, agreeable mental refreshment +in witnessing––perhaps even in +participating in––our friendly card-playing, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span> +and in taking part with us in our usual cheerful +evening dance. By your leave, Brother +Wood, I will seat myself on the rear of your +buck-board and drive along with you into +town.”</p> +<p>The little man was too jolted to say anything––and +up Charley hiked on the back of +the buck-board, and away they went down +the road. The rest followed on after: with +the Hen holding fast to Kerosene, and Kerosene +yelling for all she was worth; and behind +come some of the boys toting Blister’s corpse––with +Blister swearing at ’em for the way +they had his legs twisted, and ending by kicking +loose and making a break by the shortcut +back of the freight-house for home. The +other corpse––seeing the way Blister was +monkeyed with––stood off the ones that +wanted to carry him, allowing he’d be more +comfortable if he walked.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>When the buck-board got down to the +deepo the little man said he felt sickish––not +being used to such goings-on––and didn’t +care much for eating his supper; and he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span> +said he thought likely he’d be better if he +had a brandy-and-soda to settle his insides. +So him and Santa Fé went across to the +Forest Queen to get it––and the first thing +they struck was Blister, come to life again, +behind the bar!</p> +<p>Santa Fé hadn’t counted on that card +coming out––but he shook one to meet it +down his sleeve, and played it as quick as +he knowed how. “Ah, Patrick,” says he, +“so you have taken your poor brother’s +place.” And to the little man, who was +staring at Blister like a stuck pig, he says: +“They were twin brothers, sir, this gentleman +and the deceased––and, as you see, so +alike that few of their closest friends could +tell them apart.”</p> +<p>“It was worse than that,” says Blister, +following right along with the same suit. +“Only when one of us was drunk and the +other sober, and that way there being a difference +betwane us, could we tell our own +selves apart––and indade I’m half for thinking +that maybe it’s meself, and not poor +Mike, that’s been killed by Nosey Green this +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span> +day. But whichever of us it is that’s dead, +it’s a domn good job––if your Reverence will +excuse me saying so––the other one of us +has made of Nosey: bad luck to the heart +and lights of him, that are cooking this +blessed minute in the hottest corner of +hell!”</p> +<p>“Tut! Tut! Brother Patrick,” says Santa +Fé, speaking friendly but serious. “You +know how strongly I feel about profanity––even +when, as in the present instance, justly +aroused resentment lends to it a colorable +excuse. And also, my dear brother, I beg +you to temper with charity your views as to +Brother Green’s present whereabouts. It is +sufficient for all purposes of human justice +that he has passed away. And now, if you +please, you will supply our visitor, here––whose +nerves not unnaturally are shaken by +the tragic events of the past hour––with the +brandy-and-soda that I am satisfied he really +needs. In that need, my own nerves being +badly disordered, I myself share; and as the +agonizing loss that you have suffered has put +a still more severe strain upon your nerves, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span> +Brother Patrick, I beg that you will join us. +The drinks are on me.”</p> +<p>“Sure your Reverence has a kind heart in +you, and that’s the holy truth,” says Blister. +“It’s to me poor dead brother’s health I’ll +be drinking, and with all the good-will in the +world!”</p> +<p>They had another after that; and then +Blister said there was luck in odd numbers, +and he wanted to show Palomitas knowed +how to be hospitable to strangers, and they +must have one on the bar. They had it all +right, and by that time––having the three of +’em in him––the little man said he was feeling +better; but, even with his drinks to help +him, when he come to eating his supper he +didn’t make out much of a meal. He seemed +to be all sort of dreamy, and was like he +didn’t know where he was.</p> +<p>Santa Fé kept a-talking away to him cheerful +while they was hashing; and when they’d +finished off he told him he hoped what he’d +see of the bright side of Palomitas––before +his train started––would make him forget the +cruelly sorrowful shadows of that melancholy +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span> +afternoon. He was a daisy at word-slinging, +Charley was––better’n most auctioneers. +Then they come along together back to the +bar-room––where the cloth was off the table, +and the cards and chips out, ready for business +to begin. All the boys was jammed in +there––Nosey Green with his face tied up like +he had a toothache, so it didn’t show who he +was––waiting to see what more was coming; +and they was about busting with the laughs +they had inside ’em, and ready to play close +up to Santa Fé’s hand.</p> +<p>Charley set down to deal, same as usual, +and asked the little man to set down aside of +him––telling him he’d likely be interested in +knowing that what come to the bank that +night would go to getting the melodeon the +Sunday-school needed bad. And then he +shoved the cards round the table, and things +begun. The little man took it all dreamy––saying +kind of to himself he’d never in all +his born days expected to see a minister making +money for Sunday-school melodeons by +running a faro-bank. But he wasn’t so +dreamy but he had sense enough to keep out +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span> +of the game. Santa Fé kept a-asking him +polite to come in; but he kept answering +back polite he wouldn’t––saying he was no +sort of a hand at cards.</p> +<p>About the size of it was, in all the matters +he could see his way to that little man had +as good a load of sand as anybody––and +more’n most. Like enough at home he’d +read a lot of them fool Wild West stories––the +kind young fellers from the East, who +swallow all that’s told ’em, write up in books +with scare pictures––and that was why in +some ways he was so easy fooled. But I +guess it would a-been a mistake to pick him +up for a fool all round. Anyhow, Santa Fé +got a set-back from him on his melodeon-faro +racket––and set-backs didn’t often come +Santa Fé’s way.</p> +<p>It wasn’t a real game the little man was +up against, and like enough he had the savey +to ketch on to what was being give him. +For the look of the thing they’d fixed to start +with a baby limit, and not raise it till he got +warmed up and asked to; and it was fixed +only what he dropped––the rest going back +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span> +to the boys––should stay with the bank. +But as he didn’t warm up any worth speaking +of, and wasn’t giving himself no chances +at all to do any dropping, Santa Fé pretty +soon found out they might as well hang up +the melodeon fund and go on to the next +turn.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>The Sage-Brush Hen managed most of +what come next, and she done it well. She’d +dressed herself up in them white clothes of +hers with a little blue bow tied on at the +neck––looking that quiet and tidy and real +lady-like you’d never a-notioned what a +mixed lot she was truly––and she’d helped +the other girls rig out as near the same way +as they could come. Some of ’em didn’t +come far; but they all done as well as they +knowed how to, and so they wasn’t to be +blamed. Old Tenderfoot Sal––she was the +limit, Sal was––wasn’t to be managed no +way; so they just kept her out of the show.</p> +<p>When Santa Fé come to see faro-banking +for melodeons wasn’t money-making, he +passed out word to the Hen to start up her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span> +part of the circus––and in the Hen come, +looking real pretty in her white frock, and +put her hand on his shoulder married-like +and says: “Now, my dear, it isn’t fair for +you gentlemen to keep us ladies waiting +another minute longer. We want our share +in the evening’s amusement. Do put the +cards away and let us have our dance.” And +then she says to the little man, nice and +friendly: “My husband is so eager to get +our melodeon––and we really do need it +badly, of course––that I have trouble with +him every night to make him stop the game +and give us ladies the dance that we do so +enjoy.” And then she says on to Charley +again: “How has the melodeon fund come +out to-night, my dear?”</p> +<p>“Very well indeed. Very well indeed, my +angel,” Charley says back to her. “Eleven +dollars and a half have been added to that +sacred deposit; and the contributions have +been so equally distributed that no one of us +will feel the trifling loss. But in interrupting +our game, my dear, you are quite right––as +you always are. Our guest is not taking +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span> +part in it; and––as he cannot be expected +to feel, as we do, a pleasurable excitement +in the augmentation of our cherished little +hoard––we owe it to him to pass to a form +of harmless diversion in which he can have a +share.” And then he says to the little man: +“I am sure, sir, that Mrs. Charles will be +charmed to have you for her partner in the +opening dance of what we playfully term +our ball.”</p> +<p>“The pleasure will be mine,” says the +little man––he was a real friendly polite little +old feller––and up he gets and bows to the +Hen handsome and gives her his arm: and +then in he went with her to the dance-hall, +with Santa Fé and the rest of us following +on. It give us a first-class jolt to find all +the girls so quiet-looking; and they being +that way braced up the whole crowd to be +like a dancing-party back East. To see the +boys a-bowing away to their partners, while +José––he was the fiddler, José was––was a +tuning up, you wouldn’t a-knowed where +you was!</p> +<p>It was a square dance to start in with: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span> +with the little man and the Hen, and Charley +and Kerosene Kate, a-facing each other; and +Denver Jones with Carrots––that was the +only name she ever had in Palomitas––and +Shorty Smith and Juanita, at the sides. +Them three was the girls the Hen had done +best with; and she’d fixed ’em off so well +they most might have passed for back-East +school-ma’ams––at least, in a thickish crowd. +Everybody else just stood around and looked +on––and that time, with all the Forest Queen +ways of managing dancing upset, it was the +turn of the Palomitas folks to think they’d +struck a dream! The little man, of course, +didn’t know he’d struck anything but what +went on always––and the way he kicked +around spirited on them short little fat legs +of his was just a sight to see!</p> +<p>Like as not he hadn’t got a good sight of +Kerosene Kate while she was doing her killed +husband act before supper; or, maybe, it +was her being dressed up so tidy made a +difference. Anyways, he didn’t at first +ketch on to her being about the freshest-made +widow he’d ever tumbled to in a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span> +dancing-party. But he got there all right +when the square dance was over, and José +flourished his fiddle and sung out for the +Señores and Señoritas to take partners for a +<i>valsa</i>, and the Hen brought up Kerosene to +foot it with him––telling him she was the +organist who was going to play the melodeon +when they got it, and he’d find her a nice +partner as she was about the best dancer +they had.</p> +<p>When he did size her up he was that took +aback he couldn’t talk straight. “But––but,” +says he, “isn’t this the lady whose +husband was––was––” and he stuck fast.</p> +<p>“Whose husband met with an accident +this afternoon,” says the Hen, helping him +out with it. “Yes, this is our poor sister +Rebecca––but the accident happened, you +know, so many hours ago that the pang of +it has passed; and––as Mr. Green, the gentleman +who shot her husband, was shot right +off himself––she feels, as we all do, that the +incident is closed.”</p> +<p>And then Kerosene put in: “Great Scott, +mister, you don’t know Palomitas! Widows +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span> +in these parts don’t set round moping their +heads off all the rest of their lives. They +wait long enough for politeness––same as I’ve +done––and then they start in on a new +deal.”</p> +<p>The little man likely was too mixed up to +notice Kerosene didn’t talk pretty, like Santa +Fé and the Hen knowed how to; and he was +so all-round jolted that before he knew it––Kerosene +getting a-hold of his hand with one +of hers, and putting the other on his shoulder––he +had his arm round her waist kind of by +instinct and was footing it away with her the +best he knowed how. But while he was a-circling +about with her he was the dreamiest +looking one you ever seen. Kerosene said +afterwards she heard him saying to himself +over and over: “This can’t be real! This +can’t be real!”</p> +<p>What happened along right away after +was real enough for him––at least, he thought +it was, and that come to the same thing. He +was so dizzied up when Kerosene stopped +dancing him––she was doing the most of it, +she said, he keeping his little fat legs going +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span> +’cause she swung him round and he had to––all +he wanted was to be let to set down. So +Kerosene set him––and then the next act +was put through.</p> +<p>Bill Hart and Shorty Smith come up to +Kerosene right together, and both of ’em +asked her polite if she’d dance. She said +polite she’d be happy to; but she said, seeing +both gentlemen had spoke at once for her, +they must fix it between ’em which one had +the call. All the same, she put her hand on +Hart’s arm, like as if he was the one she +wanted––and of course that pleased Hart +and made Shorty mad. Then the two of ’em +begun talking to each other, Hart speaking +sarcastic and Shorty real ugly, and so things +went on getting hotter and hotter––till Kerosene, +doing it like she meant to break up the +rumpus, shoved Hart’s arm round her and +started to swing away. Just as they got +a-going, Shorty out with his gun and loosed +off at Hart with it––and down Hart went +in a heap on the floor.</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_7' id='linki_7'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/p0196-insert.jpg' alt='' title='' width='351' height='535' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +“AND DOWN HART WENT IN A HEAP ON THE FLOOR”<br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span></div> +<p>The whole place, of course, right away +broke into yells and cusses, and everybody +come a-crowding into a heap––some of the +boys picking up Hart and carrying him, kicking +feeble real natural, out into the kitchen; +and some more grabbing a-hold of Shorty and +taking away his gun. Kerosene let off howls +fit to blow the roof off––only quieting down +long enough to say she’d just agreed to take +Hart for her second, and it was hard luck to +be made a widow of twice in one day. Then +she howled more. Really, things did go +with a hum!</p> +<p>Santa Fé and the rest come a-trooping +back from the kitchen––leaving the door +just a crack open, so Hart could peep through +and see the fun––and Santa Fé jumped up +on a bench and sung out “Order!” as loud +as he could yell. Knowing what was expected +of ’em, the boys quieted down sudden; +and the Hen got a-hold of Kerosene +and snuggled her up to her, and told her to +weep on her fond breast––and Kerosene +started in weeping on the Hen’s fond breast +all right, and left off her howls. The room +was that quiet you could a-heard a cat purr.</p> +<p>“My brethren,” says Charley, talking sad-sounding +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span> +and digging away at his eyes with +his pocket-handkerchief, “Brother Hart has +left us”––Hart being in the kitchen that was +dead true––“and for the third time to-day +our Sunshine Club has suffered a fatal loss. +Still more lamentable is the case of our +doubly stricken sister Rebecca––only just +recovered, by time’s healing touch, from the +despair of her tragic widowhood, and at the +threshold of a new glad life of wedded happiness––who +again is desolately bereaved.” +(Kerosene give a dreadful groan––seeming to +feel something was expected of her––and +then jammed back to the Hen’s fond breast +again and kept on a-weeping like a pump.) +“Our hearts are with Sister Rebecca in her +woe,” says Charley. “She has all our sympathy, +and the full help of our sustaining +love.”</p> +<p>“If I know anything about the sense of +this meeting,” Hill chipped in, “it’s going to +do a damn sight more’n sling around sympathy.” +(Hill had a way of speaking careless, +but he didn’t mean no harm by it.) +“That shooting wasn’t a square one,” says +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span> +Hill; “and it’s likely there’ll be another +member missing from the Sunshine Club for +doing it. There’s telegraph-poles,” says Hill, +“right across the way!”</p> +<p>“Brother Hill is right,” Santa Fé went on, +“though I am pained that his unhappy disposition +to profanity remains uncurbed. +The shot that has laid low Brother Hart was +a foul one. Justice, my friends, exemplary +justice, must be meted out to the one who +laid and lowered him; and I reckon the +quicker we get Brother Smith over to the +deepo, and up on the usual telegraph-pole––as +Brother Hill has suggested––the better +it’ll be for the moral record of our town. +All in favor of such action will please signify +it by saying ‘Ay.’” And the whole crowd––except +Shorty, who voted against it––yelled +out “Ay” so loud it shook all the bottles in +the bar.</p> +<p>“The ayes have it,” says Santa Fé, “and +we will proceed. Brother Wood, as chairman +of the Friendly Aid Society, I beg that +you will go on ahead to the deepo and get +ready the rope that on these occasions you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span> +so obligingly lend us from the Company’s +stores. Brother Jones and Brother Hill, +you will kindly bring along the prisoner. +The remaining Friendly Aiders present will +have the goodness, at the appropriate moment, +to render the assistance that they +usually supply.” And off Charley went, +right after Wood, with the rest of us following +on: Hill and Denver yanking along +Shorty and flourishing their guns savage; +the girls in a pack around the Hen holding +on to Kerosene; and Kerosene doing her +share of what was wanted by letting out +yells.</p> +<p>The little man was left to himself a-purpose; +and he was so shook up, while he was +coming along with the crowd over to the +deepo, he couldn’t say a word. But he +managed to get his stamps going, though +they didn’t work well, when we was all on +the platform––waiting while Wood rigged +up the rope on the telegraph-pole––and he +asked Santa Fé, speaking husky, what the +boys meant to do.</p> +<p>“Justice!” says Charley, talking as dignified +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span> +as a just-swore-in sheriff. “As I explained +to you this morning, sir, nobody in +Palomitas ever stands in the way of a fair +fight––like the one you happened to come +in on at the finish a few hours ago––any more +than good citizens, elsewhere and under different +conditions, interfere with the processes +of the courts. But when the fight is not fair, +as in the present instance––the gravamen of +the charge against Brother Smith being that +he loosed off into Brother Hart’s back when +the latter did not know it was coming and +hadn’t his gun out––then the moral sense of +our community crystallizes promptly into +the punitive action that the case demands: +as you will see for yourself, inside of the next +ten minutes, when you see Brother Smith +run up on that second telegraph-pole to the +left and kicking his legs in the air until he +kicks himself into Kingdom Come!”</p> +<p>“Good Heavens!” says the little man. +“You’re not going to––to hang him?”</p> +<p>“We just rather are!” says Santa Fé. +And then he says, talking kind of cutting: +“May I ask, sir, what you do in England with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span> +murderers? Do you pay ’em salaries, and +ask ’em out to tea-parties, and hire somebody +to see they have all the drinks they want?”</p> +<p>The little man begun telling how English +folks manage such matters, and was real +excited. But nobody but the Hen paid no +attention to him. The Hen––she and Kerosene +was standing close aside of him––turned +round to him and said pleasant she always +enjoyed most the hangings they had by +moonlight (the moon was at the full, and +shining beautiful) because the moonlight, +she said, cast over them such a glamour of +romance. And her looking at moonlight +hangings that way seemed to give him such +a jolt he stopped talking and give a kind of +a gasp. There wasn’t no more time for +talking, anyway––for just then the train +backed in to the platform and the conductor +sung out the Friendly Aiders had got to get +a move on ’em, if them going by it was to +see the doings, and put Shorty through.</p> +<p>Being moonlight, and the shadows thick, +helped considerable––keeping from showing +how the boys had fixed Shorty up so his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203' name='page_203'></a>203</span> +hanging wouldn’t come hard: with a lariat +run round under his arms, his shirt over it, +and a loop just inside his collar where they +could hitch the rope fast. When they did +hitch to it, things looked just as natural as +you please.</p> +<p>Shorty got right into the hanging spirit––he +always was a comical little cuss, Shorty +was––pleading pitiful with the boys to let +up on him; and, when they wouldn’t, getting +a halt on ’em––same as he’d seen done +at real hangings––by beginning to send messages +to all the folks he ever had. Santa Fé +let him go on till he’d got to his uncles and +cousins––and then he said he guessed the +rest of the family could make out to do with +second-hand messages from them that had +them; and as it was past train-time, and the +distinguished stranger in their midst––who +was going on it––would enjoy seeing the show +through, the hanging had got to be shoved +right along. When Charley’d give his order, +Carver come up––he was the Pullman conductor, +Carver was, and he had his points +how to manage––and steered the little man +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204' name='page_204'></a>204</span> +onto the back platform of the Pullman, +where he could see well; and so had things +all ready for the train to pull out as soon as +Shorty was swung off.</p> +<p>Wood, who’d had experience, had the rope +rigged up in good shape over the cross-bar +of the telegraph-pole; and Hill and Denver +fetched old Shorty along––with Shorty letting +on he was scared stiff, and yowling like he’d +been ashamed to if it hadn’t been a bunco +game he was playing––and hitched him to +it, with the boys standing close round in a +clump so they hid the way it was done.</p> +<p>The little man was so worked up by that +time––it likely being he hadn’t seen much of +hangings––he was just a-hopping: with his +plug hat off, and sousing the sweat off his +face with his pocket-handkerchief, and singing +out what was going on wasn’t any better +than murder, and begging all hands not to +do what he said was such a dreadful deed.</p> +<p>But nobody paid no attention to him +(except Carver, he was a friendly feller, Carver +was, kept a lookout he didn’t tumble +himself off the platform) and when Denver +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205' name='page_205'></a>205</span> +sung out things was ready, and Santa Fé +sung out back for the Friendly Aiders to haul +away, the boys all grabbed onto the rope +together––and up Shorty went a-kicking into +the air.</p> +<p>Shorty really did do his act wonderful: +kicking every which way at first, and then +only sort of squirming, and then quieting +down gradual till he just hung limp––with +the kick all kicked out of him––turning +round and round slow!</p> +<p>When he’d quieted, the train conductor +swung his lantern to start her, and off she +went––the little man standing there on the +back platform of the Pullman, a-grabbing +at the railing like he was dizzy, looking back +with all his eyes. And old Shorty up on the +telegraph-pole, making a black splotch twisting +about in the moonlight, was the last bit +of Palomitas he seen!</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>Next day but one Carver come down again +on his regular run, and he told the boys the +little man kept a-hanging onto the platform +railing and a-looking back hard till the train +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206' name='page_206'></a>206</span> +got clean round the curve. Then he give a +kind of a coughing groan, Carver said, and +come inside the Pullman––there wasn’t no +other passengers that night in the Pullman––and +plumped himself down on a seat anyways, +a-looking as white as a clean paper +collar; and for a while he just set there, like +he had a pain.</p> +<p>At last he roused up and reached for his +grip and got his flask out and had a good +one; and when he’d had it he says to Carver, +as savage as if Carver––who hadn’t had no +hand in the doings––was the whole business: +“Sir, this America of yours is a continent of +chaos––and you Americans are no better +than so many wild beasts!” Then he had +another; and after that he went on, like he +was talking to himself: “All I ask is to get +out of this nightmare of a country in a hurry––and +safe back to my own home in the +Avenue Road!” And from then on, Carver +said, till it was bedtime––except now and +then he took another––he just set still and +glared.</p> +<p>Carver said it wasn’t any funeral of his, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207' name='page_207'></a>207</span> +and so he didn’t see no need to argue with +him. And he allowed, he said, maybe he +had some call to feel the way he did about +America, and to want to get quick out of it, +after being up against Palomitas for what +he guessed you might say was a full day.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208' name='page_208'></a>208</span> +<a name='VII_THE_PURIFICATION_OF_PALOMITAS' id='VII_THE_PURIFICATION_OF_PALOMITAS'></a> +<h2>VII</h2> +<h3>THE PURIFICATION OF PALOMITAS</h3> +</div> +<p>In the long run, same as I said +to start with, all tough towns +gets to where it’s needed to +have a clean-up. Shooting-scrapes +is a habit that grows; +and after a while decent folks begins to be +sort of sick of such doings––and of having +things all upside-downey generally––and then +something a little extry happens, bringing +matters to a head, and the white men take +hold and the toughs is fired. Just to draw +a card anywheres from the pack––there was +Durango. What made a clean town of +Durango was that woman getting killed in +bed in her tent––the boys being rumpussing +around, same as usual, and a shot just happening +her way and taking her. It was felt +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209' name='page_209'></a>209</span> +that outsiders––and ’specially ladies––oughtn’t +to get no such treatment; and so they had a +spring house-cleaning––after what I reckon +was the worst winter a town ever went +through––and Durango was sobered right +down.</p> +<p>Palomitas went along the same trail, and +took the same pass over the divide. All +through that year, while the end of the track +hung there, things kept getting more and +more uncomfortabler. When construction +started up again––the little Englishman, in +spite of the dose we give him, reported favorable +on construction and the English stockholders +put up the stake they was asked to––things +got to be worse still. Right away, as +soon as work begun, the place was jammed +full of Greasers getting paid off every Saturday +night, and all day Sunday being crazy +drunk and knifing each other, and in between +scrappings having their pay sucked out of +’em at the banks and dance-halls––and most +of the boys going along about the same rate, +except they used guns instead of knives to +settle matters––so the town really was just +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210' name='page_210'></a>210</span> +about what you might call a quarter-section +of hell’s front yard.</p> +<p>Being that way, it come to be seen there’d +got to be a clean-up; and what was wanted +for a starter was give by Santa Fé Charley +shooting Bill Hart. There was no real use +for the shooting. The two of ’em just got +to jawing in Hart’s store about which was +the best of two brands of plug tobacco––Hart +being behind the counter, and Charley, +who had a bad jag on, setting out in the +middle of the store on a nail-kag––and the +first thing anybody knowed, Charley’d let +go with his derringer through his pants-pocket +and Hart was done for. If Santa Fé +hadn’t been on one of his tears at the time, the +thing wouldn’t a-happened––him and Hart +always having been friendly, and ’specially +so after the trouble they’d had together over +Hart’s aunt. But when it did happen––being +so sort of needless, and Hart popular––most +of us made our minds up something had +got to be done.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>Joe Cherry headed the reform movement. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211' name='page_211'></a>211</span> +He had a bunch of sheep up in the Sangre de +Cristo mountains, Cherry had, but was in +town frequent and always bunked at Hart’s +store––him and Hart having knowed each +other back East and being great friends. +That made him take a ’special interest in the +matter; and when he come a-riding in about +an hour after things was over––likely he’d a-fixed +Santa Fé himself if he’d been there +when it happened––he got right up on his ear. +He said he meant to square accounts for +Bill’s shooting, and he reckoned telegraph-poling +Charley was about what was needed +to square ’em; and he said it was a good +time, with that for a starter, for rounding-up +and firing all the toughs there was in town. +The rest of us allowed Cherry’s notions was +reasonable, and it was seen there’d better be +no fooling over ’em; and so we went straight +on and had a meeting, with Cherry chairman, +and fixed up a Committee––and the Committee +begun business by corralling Santa Fé, +and then set to work and made out a list of +them that was to be fired.</p> +<p>There was about a dozen of ’em in the list; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212' name='page_212'></a>212</span> +and they was told––the notice being posted +at the deepo––they had twenty-four hours to +get out in; and it was added that them that +wasn’t out in twenty-four hours would find +’emselves landed on the dumps for keeps. A +few of ’em kicked a little––saying it was a free +country, and they guessed they’d a right to +be where they’d a mind to. But when the +Committee said back it just was a free country, +and one of the freest things in it was +telegraph-poles––as Santa Fé Charley was +going to find out for certain, and as them that +was ordered to get up and get and didn’t +would find out along with him––even the +kickingest of ’em seen they’d better just shut +their heads and andy along.</p> +<p>It wasn’t till the Committee come to tackle +the Sage-Brush Hen there was any trouble––and +then they found their drills was against +quartz! Two or three of Charley’s worst +shootings was charged to the Hen, she being +’special friends with him; and just because she +was such a good-natured obliging sort of a +woman, always wanting to please everybody, +she was at the roots of half the fights that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213' name='page_213'></a>213</span> +started in––so there’d come to be what was +called the Hen’s Lot out in the cemetery on +the mesa, as I’ve mentioned before. The +Committee put her in their list because they +knowed for a fact there was bound to be +ructions in Palomitas as long as she stayed +there; and so they found ’emselves in a deepish +hole when she said plump Palomitas suited +her, and she didn’t mean to be fired. The +Hen knowed as well as they did she had a +cinch on ’em. If they didn’t like her staying, +she said, they could yank her up to the next +telegraph-pole to Charley’s––and then she +asked ’em, kind of cool and cutting, if they +didn’t think hanging a lady would give a nice +name to the town!</p> +<p>The Committee was in session in the waiting-room +at the deepo while the Hen was +doing her talking, and Santa Fé––with handcuffs +on, and tied to the express messenger’s +safe––was in the express office, with the door +open between. Everybody seen the Hen +was right, and hanging her would be ungentlemanly, +and nobody seemed to know +what they’d better do. While they was all +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214' name='page_214'></a>214</span> +setting still and thinking, Santa Fé spoke up +from the express office––saying he had the +reputation of the town at heart as much as +anybody, and to make a real clean-up the +Hen ought to quit along with the others, +and if they’d let him have five minutes +private talk with her he’d fix things so she’d +go.</p> +<p>The Committee didn’t much believe Santa +Fé could deliver the goods; but they seen it +would be a way out for ’em if he did––and so +they agreed him and the Hen should have +their talk. To make it private, he was took +out and hitched fast to a freight-car laying on +the siding back of the deepo––the Committee +standing around in easy shooting distance, +but far enough off not to hear nothing, with +their Winchesters handy in case the Hen took +it into her head to cut the rope and give him +a chance to get away. She didn’t––and she +and Santa Fé talked to each other mighty +serious for a while; and then they begun to +snicker a little; and they ended up in a +rousing laugh.</p> +<p>Charley sung out they’d finished, and the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215' name='page_215'></a>215</span> +Committee closed in and unhitched him, +and took him back to the express office and +hitched him to the safe again––where he was +to stay till hanging-time, with members of +the Committee taking turns keeping him +quiet with their guns. He said he was much +obliged to ’em, and the Hen had agreed to +quit––and everybody was pleased all round.</p> +<p>“I don’t like not being here when Charley +gets his medicine,” the Hen said, “him and +me being such good friends; but he says it +would only worry him having me in the +audience, and so I’ve promised him I’ll light +out”––and she kept her word, and got away +for Denver by that night’s train. Her going +took a real load off the Committee’s mind.</p> +<p>Some of the other fired ones went off on the +same train. The rest took Hill’s coach across +to Santa Fé––and made no trouble, Hill said, +except they held the coach for two hours at +Pojuaque while all hands got drunk at old +man Bouquet’s. Hill said all the rest of the +way they was yelling, and firing off their guns, +and raising hell generally––that was the way +Hill put it––but they didn’t do no real harm.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216' name='page_216'></a>216</span></div> +<p>It was Joe Cherry’s notion that Santa Fé +should be took along to Hart’s funeral, and +not hung till everybody got back to town +again. Joe was a serious-minded man, and +he said the moral effect of running things +that way would pan out a lot richer than if +they just had a plain hanging before the +funeral got under way.</p> +<p>Santa Fé kicked at that, at first; and a +good many of the boys felt he had a right +to. Santa Fé said it was all in the game to +run him up to the telegraph-pole in front of +the deepo, the same as other folks; but no +committee had no right, he said, to make a +circus of him by packing him all round the +place after poor old Bill––who always had +been plain in his tastes, and would have been +the last man in Palomitas to want that kind +of a fuss made over him––and he didn’t mean +to take a hand in no such fool carryings-on. +He didn’t want anybody to think he was +squirming, he said, for he wasn’t. Some men +got up against telegraph-poles, and others +got up against guns or pneumonia or whatever +happened to come along––and it was all +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217' name='page_217'></a>217</span> +in the day’s work. But when they did get +up against it––whatever it turned out to be––that +was the one time in their lives when it +wasn’t fair to worry ’em more’n was needed. +Nobody but chumps, he said, would want to +hurt his feelings by making him do trick-mule +acts at poor old Bill’s funeral––’specially as +him and Bill always had been friendly, and +nobody was sorrier than he was about the +accident that had occurred.</p> +<p>Santa Fé was a first-rate talker, and everybody +but Cherry allowed what he was letting +out had a good deal of sense in it. He ended +up by saying that if they did make any such +fool show of him he’d like ’em to put it +through quick and get him back to the deepo +and telegraph him off to Kingdom Come in a +hurry––as he’d be glad at any price to be shut +of a crowd that would play it on anybody +that low down!</p> +<p>Cherry stuck it out, though, to have things +his way. Palomitas was going in for purification, +Cherry said, and the moral effect of +having Santa Fé along at Bill’s funeral was +part of the purifying. The very fact that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218' name='page_218'></a>218</span> +Santa Fé was kicking so hard against it, he +said, showed it was a good thing. There +was sense in that, too; and so the upshot of it +was the boys come round to Cherry’s plan. +The only serious thing against it was it +meant waiting over another day, till the +funeral outfit got down from Denver––all +hands having chipped in to give Hart a good +send-off, and telegraphed his size to a first-class +Denver undertaker, with orders to do +him up in style. Making him wait around +so long, sort of idle, was what Santa Fé +kicked hardest against at first. But after +his talk with the Hen, as was remembered +afterwards, he didn’t do any more kicking; +and some of the boys noticed he was a little +nervous, and kept asking, off and on, if they +still meant to run the show that way.</p> +<p>The boys did what they could to make the +time go for him––setting around sociable in +the express office telling stories about other +hangings they’d happened to get up against, +and trying all they knowed how to amuse +him, and giving him more seegars and drinks +than he really cared to have. But as he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219' name='page_219'></a>219</span> +was kept hitched to both handles of the safe +right enough, and handcuffed, and as the two +members of the Committee watching him––while +they was as pleasant with him as anybody––never +had their hands far off their +guns, it’s likely there’d been other times when +he’d enjoyed himself more.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>Things was spirited at the deepo when the +Denver train got in. All there was of Palomitas +was on deck, and Becker’d come over from +Santa Cruz de la Cañada, and old man +Bouquet from Pojuaque, and Sam and +Marcus Elbogen had driven across on their +buck-board from San Juan––and Mexicans +had come in from all around in droves.</p> +<p>The Elbogen brothers had been asked over +for the funeral ’special––because they both +had good voices, and the Committee thought +like enough, being Germans, they’d know +some hymns. It turned out they didn’t––but +they blew off “The Watch on the Rhine” +in good shape, when singing time come out at +the cemetery; and as it was a serious-sounding +tune it done just as well. Singing it made +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220' name='page_220'></a>220</span> +trouble, though: because Hart’s nephew––who +knowed German and was a pill––hadn’t +no more sense’n to tell old man Bouquet, +coming back to town, what the words meant; +and that started old man Bouquet off so––the +war not being long over, and his side +downed––that it took two of us, holding him +by his arms and legs, to keep him from trying +to fight both the Elbogens at once. +Being good-natured young fellows, the Elbogens +didn’t take offence, but behaved like +perfect gentlemen––telling old man Bouquet +they didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, and +was sorry if they had––and it ended up well +by their having drinks together at the Forest +Queen. All that, though, has no real bearing +on the story. It happened along later in the +day.</p> +<p>Before the train got in, to save time, a rope +had been rigged for Santa Fé over the cross-bar +of the usual telegraph-pole––and Cherry, +who knowed how to manage better’n most, +had seen to it the rope was well soaped so as +to run smooth. Cherry said he’d knowed +things go real annoying, sometimes, when the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221' name='page_221'></a>221</span> +soap had been forgot. Santa Fé looked well. +He’d had a good brush up––and he needed it, +after being tied fast to the safe for three days +and sleeping in a blanket on the express-office +floor––and he’d put on a clean shirt, +and blacked his boots, and had a shave. He +always was a tidy sort of a man.</p> +<p>When the train pulled in, being on time for +a wonder, some fellows from Chamita and +the Embudo––come to see the doings––got +out from the day-coach and shook hands; and +the Denver undertaker got out from the express-car +and helped the messenger unload +the fixings he’d brought for poor old Bill. +Everybody stood around quiet like, and as +serious as you please. You might have +thought it was a Sunday morning back in the +States.</p> +<p>Except now and then a drummer––bound +for Santa Fé on Hill’s coach––nobody much +ever come to Palomitas on the Pullman; +and so there was something of a stir-up when +the Pullman conductor helped a lady out of +the car––landing her close to where Charley +in his clean shirt and handcuffs on was standing +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222' name='page_222'></a>222</span> +between two members of the Committee +holding guns. She was a fine-shaped woman, +but looked oldish––as well as you could see for +the veil she had on––having a sad pale face +a good deal wrinkled and a bunch of gray hair. +She was dressed in measly old black clothes, +and had an old black shawl on, and looked +poor.</p> +<p>Getting out into that crowd of men seemed +to rattle her, and she didn’t for a minute look +at nobody. It wasn’t till she a’most butted +into Charley she seen him––and when she did +see him she let off a yell loud enough to give +points to a locomotive! And then she sort +of sobbed out: “My husband!”––and got +her arms around Santa Fé’s neck and begun +to cry.</p> +<p>“My God! It’s my wife!” said Charley. +And if the members of the Committee hadn’t +caught the two of ’em quick they’d likely +tumbled down.</p> +<p>Santa Fé was the first to get his wind back. +“My poor darling!” he said. “To think that +you should have come to me at last––and in +this awful hour!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223' name='page_223'></a>223</span></div> +<p>“What does it mean, Charley? Tell me, +what does it mean?” she moaned.</p> +<p>Santa Fé snuggled her up to him––as well +as he could with his hands handcuffed––and +said back to her: “It means, Mary, that in +less than two hours’ time I am to be hung! +In the heat of passion I have killed a man. +It was more than half an accident, as everybody +here knows”––and he looked over her +head at the boys as they all jammed in to +listen––“but that don’t matter, so far as the +dreadful result is concerned. I loved the +man I shot like my own brother, and shooting +him in that chance way has about broken +my heart. But that don’t count either. Justice +must be done, my darling. Stern justice +must be done. You have come just in time to +see your husband die!” He was quiet for a +minute, with the woman all in a shake against +him––and a kind of a snuffling went through +the crowd. Then he said, sort of choky: +“Tell me, Mary, how are our dear little girls?”</p> +<p>She was too broke up to answer him. She +just kept on hugging him, and crying as hard +as she could cry.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224' name='page_224'></a>224</span></div> +<p>“Gentlemen,” said Santa Fé, “it is better +that this painful scene should end. Take my +poor wife from me, and let me pay the just penalty +of my accidental crime. Take her away, +please––and hang me as quick as you can!”</p> +<p>“They sha’n’t hang you, Charley! They +sha’n’t! They sha’n’t!” she sung out––and +she jerked away from him and got in front +of Cherry and pitched down on the deepo +platform on her knees. “Don’t hang him, +sir!” she groaned out. “Spare him to me, +and to our dear little girls who love him with +all their little hearts! Oh, sir, say that he +shall be saved!”</p> +<p>“Get up, ma’am, please,” Cherry said, +looking as worried as he could look. “That’s +no sort of a way for a lady to do! Please +get up right away.”</p> +<p>“Never! Never!” she said. “Never till +you promise me that the life of my dear +husband shall be spared!”––and she grabbed +Cherry round the knees and groaned dreadful. +He really was the most awkward-looking +man, with her holding onto his legs that +way, you ever seen!</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_8' id='linki_8'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/p0224-insert.jpg' alt='' title='' width='355' height='535' /><br /> +<p class='caption'> +“‘DON’T HANG HIM, SIR!’ SHE GROANED OUT”<br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225' name='page_225'></a>225</span></div> +<p>“Oh, Lord, ma’am, <i>do</i> get up!” he said. +“Having you like that for another minute’ll +make me sick. I’m not used to such goings-on”––and +Cherry did what he could to work +loose his legs.</p> +<p>But she hung on so tight he couldn’t shake +her, and kept saying, “Save him! Save him!” +and uttering groans.</p> +<p>Cherry wriggled his legs as much as he +could and looked around at the boys. They +all was badly broke up, and anybody could +see they was weakening. “Shall we let up +on Santa Fé this time?” he asked. “I guess +it’s true he didn’t more’n half mean, being +drunk the way he was, to shoot Bill––and it +makes things different, anyway, knowing he’s +got kids and a wife. Bill himself would be +the first to allow that. Bill was as kind-hearted +a man as ever lived. Do please, +ma’am, let go.”</p> +<p>Nobody spoke for a minute––but it was +plain how the tide was setting––and then +Santa Fé himself chipped in. “Gentlemen,” +he said, “you all know I’ve faced this music +from the first without any squirming, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226' name='page_226'></a>226</span> +even come into Joe Cherry’s plan for making +me do circus stunts at the funeral for the +good of the town. I’m ready to go through +the whole fool business right now, and come +back here when it’s all over and be hung according +to contract––”</p> +<p>“Save him! Save him!” the woman sung +out; and she give such a jerk to Cherry’s +legs it come close to spilling him.</p> +<p>“But I will say this much, gentlemen,” +Santa Fé went on: “I am willing to ask for +the sake of my dear wife and helpless innocent +infants what I wouldn’t be low down +enough to ask for myself––and that is that +you call this game off. This dreadful experience +has changed me, gentlemen. It has +changed me right down to my toes. Being +as close to a telegraph-pole as I am now +makes a man want to turn over a new leaf +and behave––as some of you like enough’ll +find out for yourselves if you don’t draw +cards from my awful example and brace up +all you know how. Give me another show, +gentlemen. That’s what I ask for––give me +another show. Let me go home with my +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227' name='page_227'></a>227</span> +angel wife to the dear old farm in Ohio, where +my aged mother and my sweet babes are +waiting for me. Like enough they’re standing +out by the old well in the front yard looking +down the road for me now!” Santa Fé +gagged so he couldn’t go on for a minute. +But he pulled himself together and finished +with his chest out and his chin up and speaking +firm. “Let me go home, I say, to the +old farm and my dear ones––and take a +fresh start at leading bravely the honest life +of an honest man!”</p> +<p>Then he lowered down his chin and took +his chest in and said, sort of soft and gentle: +“Let go of Mr. Cherry’s legs and come and +kiss me, my darling! And please wipe the +tears from my eyes––with my poor shackled +hands I can’t!”</p> +<p>The woman give Cherry’s legs one more +rousing jerk, and said, sort of imploring: +“Save him! Save him for his old mother’s +sake, and for mine, and for the sake of our +little girls!” Then she got up and wiped +away at Santa Fé’s eyes with her pocket-handkerchief, +and went to kissing him for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228' name='page_228'></a>228</span> +all she was worth––holding on to him tight +around the neck with both arms.</p> +<p>The boys was all as uncomfortable as they +could be––except Cherry seemed to feel better +at getting his legs loose––and some of ’em +fairly snuffled out loud. They stood around +looking at each other, and nobody said a +word. Then Santa Fé kind of wrenched +loose from her kissing him and spoke up. +“Which is it to be, gentlemen?” he said. +“Is it the telegraph-pole––or is it another +chance?” The woman moaned fit to break +her heart.</p> +<p>The silence, except for her moaning, hung +on for a good minute. Then Hill broke it. +“Oh, damn it all!” said Hill––it was Hill’s +way to talk sort of careless––“Give him another +chance!”</p> +<p>That settled things. In another minute +they had the handcuffs off of Santa Fé and +all the boys was shaking hands with him. +And then they was asking to be introduced +to his wife––she was all broke to bits, and +crying, and kept her veil down––and shaking +hands with her too; and they ended off by +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229' name='page_229'></a>229</span> +giving Charley and his wife three cheers. +You never seen folks so pleased! The only +one out of it was the Denver undertaker––who +couldn’t be expected to feel like the +rest of us; and was in a hurry, anyway, to +put through his job so he could start back +home on the night train.</p> +<p>“You come along with me in the coach, +Charley,” Hill said––Hill always was a friendly +sort of a fellow––“and I’ll jerk you over +to Santa Fé in no time, and you can start +right off East by the 6.30 train. That’ll be +quicker’n going up to Pueblo, and it’ll be +cheaper too. The ride across sha’n’t cost +you a cent. If you and your lady come in +my coach, you come free. And I say, boys,” +Hill went on, “let’s open a pot for them little +girls! Here’s my hat, with ten dollars in it +for a warmer. I’d make it more if I could––and +nobody’ll hurt my feelings by raising my +call.”</p> +<p>All hands made a rush for Hill’s hat––and +when Hill handed it to that poor woman, +who had her pocket-handkerchief up to her +eyes under her veil and was crying so she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230' name='page_230'></a>230</span> +shook all over, there was more’n two hunderd +dollars in it, mostly gold. “This is for +them children, ma’am, with all our compliments,” +Hill said––and he and Charley helped +her hold her shawl up, so it made a kind of +a bag, while he turned his hat upside-down.</p> +<p>“Speaking for my dear little girls, I thank +you from my heart, gentlemen,” Santa Fé +said. “This is a royal gift, and it comes at a +mighty good time. Some part of it must be +used to pay our way East––back to the dear +old home, where those little angels are waiting +for us sitting cuddled up on their grandmother’s +knees. What remains, I promise +you gentlemen, shall be a sacred deposit––to +be used in buying little dresses, and hats, and +things, for my sweet babes. I hate to use a +single cent of it for anything else, but the +fact is just now I’m right down to the hardpan.” +And everybody––remembering Santa +Fé’d took advantage of being on his drunk +to get cleaned out at Denver Jones’s place +the night before the shooting––knowed this +was true.</p> +<p>“Well, Charley, we must be andying along,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231' name='page_231'></a>231</span> +Hill said. “Waiting here to see you hung +has put me more’n an hour behind on my +schedule. I’ll have to hustle them mules like +hell”––that was the careless way Hill talked +always––“if we’re going to ketch that 6.30 +train.”</p> +<p>Everybody shook hands for good-bye with +Santa Fé and his wife, and Santa Fé had his +pockets stuffed full of seegars, and more +bottles was put in the coach than was needed––and +then we give ’em three cheers again, +and away they went down the slope to the +bridge over the Rio Grande, with Hill whipping +away for all he was worth and cussing +terrible at his mules. Whipping done some +good, Hill used to say; but cuss-words was +the only sure things to make mules go.</p> +<p>“Well, boys,” said Cherry, when the yelling +let up a little. “I guess getting shut of +Santa Fé that way is better’n hanging him; +and I guess––with him and the Hen and the +rest of ’em fired out of it––we’ve got Palomitas +purified about down to the ground. And +what’s to all our credits, we’ve ended off +by doing a first-class good deed! Them +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232' name='page_232'></a>232</span> +little girls’ll be pleased and happy when +their mother gets back to ’em with our money +in her pocket, and brings along in good shape +their father––who’d just about be in the +thick of his kicking on that telegraph-pole, +by this time, if she hadn’t romped in the +way she did on the closest kind of a close +call!</p> +<p>“And now let’s turn to and get poor old +Bill planted. We’ve kind of lost sight of +Bill in the excitement––and we owe him a +good deal. If Santa Fé hadn’t started the +reform movement by shooting him, we’d still +be going on in the same old way. You may +say it’s all Bill’s doings that Palomitas has +been give the clean-up it wanted, and wanted +bad!”</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>When Hill drove into town next afternoon––coming +to the deepo, where most of the +boys was setting around waiting for the train +to pull out––he was laughing so he was most +tumbling off the box.</p> +<p>“I’ve got the damnedest biggest joke on +this town,” Hill said––Hill had the habit of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233' name='page_233'></a>233</span> +talking that off-hand way––“that ever was +got on a town since towns begun!”</p> +<p>Hill was so full of it he couldn’t hold in to +make a story. He just went right on blurting +it out: “Do you boys know who that wife +of Charley’s was that blew in yesterday from +Denver? I guess you don’t! Well, I do––she +was the Sage-Brush Hen! Yes sirree,” +Hill said, so full of laugh he couldn’t hardly +talk plain; “that’s just who she was! All +along from the first there was something +about her shape I felt I ought to know, and I +was dead right. It come out while we was +stopping at Bouquet’s place at Pojuaque for +dinner––they both knowing I’d see it was such +a joke I wouldn’t spoil it by giving it away +too soon. She went in the back room at +Bouquet’s to have a wash and a brush up––and +when she come along to table she’d +got over being Charley’s wife and was the +Hen as good as you please! She hadn’t a +gray hair or a wrinkle left nowhere, and was +like she always was except for her black +clothes. When she saw my looks at seeing +her, she got to laughing fit to kill herself––just +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234' name='page_234'></a>234</span> +the same gay old Hen as ever; and she +always was, you know, the most comical-acting +sort of a woman, when she wanted +to be, anybody ever seen.</p> +<p>“When she quieted down her laughing a +little she told me the whole story. She and +Charley’d fixed it up between ’em, she said; +and she’d whipped up to Denver on one train +and down again on the next––buying quick +her gray hair and her black outfit, and getting +somebody she knowed at the Denver theatre +to fix her face for her so she’d look all broke +up and old. She nearly gave the whole thing +away, she said, when Charley asked her about +the little girls. He just throwed that in, without +her expecting it––and it set her to laughing +and shaking so, back of her veil, that +we’d a-ketched up with her sure, she said, +if Charley hadn’t whispered quick to pretend +to cry and carry off her laughing that way. +She had another close call, she said, when +Charley was talking about the old farm in +Ohio––she all the time knowing for a fact +he was born in East St. Louis, and hadn’t +any better acquaintance with Ohio than three +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235' name='page_235'></a>235</span> +months in the Cincinnati jail. Charley +ought to go on the stage, she says––where +she’s been herself. She says he’d lay Forrest +and Booth and all them fellows out cold!</p> +<p>“She and Charley just yelled while she was +telling it all to me; and they was laughing +’emselves ’most sick all the rest of the way +across to Santa Fé. When we got into town +I drove ’em to the Fonda; and then the Hen +rigged herself out in good clothes she bought +at Morse’s––it was the pot we made up for +them sweet babes paid for her outfit––and +give her old black duds to one of the Mexican +chambermaids. They allowed––knowing I +could be trusted not to go around talking in +Santa Fé––they’d stay on at the Fonda till +to-morrow, anyway: so I might let ’em know, +when I get back again, how you boys took it +when you was told how they’d played it on +you right smack down to the ground!</p> +<p>“Charley sent word he hoped there wouldn’t +be no hard feeling––as there oughtn’t to be, +he said, seeing he was so drunk when he shot +Bill it was just an accident not calling for +hanging; and the whole thing, anyways, being +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236' name='page_236'></a>236</span> +all among friends. And the Hen sent word +she guessed the two of ’em had give you a +first-class theatre show worth more’n you +put in my hat for gate-money, and you all +ought to be pleased. And they both said +they’d been treated so square by you fellows +they’d be real sorry to have any misunderstanding, +and they hoped you’d take the +joke friendly––the same as they meant it +themselves.”</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>Well, of course we all did take it friendly––it +wouldn’t a-been sensible to take as good a +joke as that was any other way. Cherry was +the only one that squirmed a little. “It’s on +us, and it’s on us good,” Cherry said; “and +I’m not kicking––only you boys haven’t got +no notion what it is having a woman a-grabbing +fast to your legs and groaning at +you, and how dead sick it makes you feel!”</p> +<p>Cherry stopped for a minute, and looked as +if he was a’most sick with just thinking about +it. Then he sort of shook himself and got a +brace on, and went ahead with his chin up +like he was making a speech in town-meeting––and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237' name='page_237'></a>237</span> +it turned out, as it don’t always in +town-meeting speeches, what he said was +true.</p> +<p>“Gentlemen,” said Cherry, “there’s this +to be said, and we have a right to say it +proudly: we’ve give this town the clean-up +we set out to give it, and from now on it’s +going to stay clean. There won’t be any +more doings; or, if there is, the Committee +’ll know the reason why. Palomitas is purified, +gentlemen, right down to the roots; and +I reckon I’m mistook bad––worse’n I was +when the Hen was yanking my legs about––if +the Committee hasn’t sand enough and +rope enough to keep on keeping it pure!”</p> +<p style='text-align:center; margin-top:2em;'>THE END</p> + +<!-- generated by ppg.rb version: 3.19 --> +<!-- timestamp: Tue Oct 27 12:39:27 -0600 2009 --> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30352 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/30352-h/images/f0001-insert.jpg b/30352-h/images/f0001-insert.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b772161 --- /dev/null +++ b/30352-h/images/f0001-insert.jpg diff --git a/30352-h/images/f0002-insert.jpg b/30352-h/images/f0002-insert.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b47a7bb --- /dev/null +++ b/30352-h/images/f0002-insert.jpg diff --git a/30352-h/images/p0022-insert.jpg b/30352-h/images/p0022-insert.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..37382d5 --- /dev/null +++ b/30352-h/images/p0022-insert.jpg diff --git a/30352-h/images/p0084-insert.jpg b/30352-h/images/p0084-insert.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e3533f2 --- /dev/null +++ b/30352-h/images/p0084-insert.jpg diff --git a/30352-h/images/p0120-insert.jpg b/30352-h/images/p0120-insert.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d082563 --- /dev/null +++ b/30352-h/images/p0120-insert.jpg diff --git a/30352-h/images/p0132-insert.jpg b/30352-h/images/p0132-insert.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ca6fb53 --- /dev/null +++ b/30352-h/images/p0132-insert.jpg diff --git a/30352-h/images/p0166-insert.jpg b/30352-h/images/p0166-insert.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a216331 --- /dev/null +++ b/30352-h/images/p0166-insert.jpg diff --git a/30352-h/images/p0196-insert.jpg b/30352-h/images/p0196-insert.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e84ee26 --- /dev/null +++ b/30352-h/images/p0196-insert.jpg diff --git a/30352-h/images/p0224-insert.jpg b/30352-h/images/p0224-insert.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0a9aafd --- /dev/null +++ b/30352-h/images/p0224-insert.jpg |
