Wolfville Days [47]
hoss-stealin', I offers even money this dumb gent's enterprise is entitled to the red ticket.'
"Which we ain't standin' thar talkin' long. If thar's one reform to which the entire West devotes itse'f, it's breakin' people of this habit of hoss-stealin'. It ain't no time when four of us is off on the dumb party's trail, an' half of that is consoomed in takin' a drink.
"Whyever be gents in the West so sot ag'in hoss-thieves? Son, you abides in a region at once pop'lous an' fertile. But if you was to put in three months on a cactus desert, with water holes fifty miles apart, it would begin to glimmer on you as to what it means to find yourse'f afoot. It would come over you like a landslide that the party who steals your hoss would have improved your condition in life a heap if he'd played his hand out by shootin' a hole through your heart.
"No, I ain't in no sech hurry to hang people for standin' in on some killin'. Thar's two sides to a killin'; an' if deceased is framed up with a gun all reg'lar at the time, it goes a long way toward exculpatin' of the sport who outlives him. But thar ain't only one side to hoss-stealin', an' the sooner the party's strung up or plugged, the sooner thar's a vict'ry for the right.
"As I remarks, it ain't two minutes when thar's four of us gone swarmin' off after the dumb man who's got Texas Thompson's pinto pony. From the tracks, he ain't makin' no play to throw us off, for he maintains a straight-away run down the Silver City trail, an' never leaves it or doubles once.
"Runnin' of the dumb man down don't turn out no arduous task. It's doo mainly, however, because the pinto sticks a cactus thorn in its hoof an' goes lame in less time tharafter than it takes to turn a jack.
"'Hands up,' says Texas, gettin' the drop as we swings up on the deef an' dumb foogitive.
"But thar's no need of sech preecautions, as the dumb party ain't packin' no weepons--not so much as a knife.
"Thar's nothin' to say, no talk to make, when we takes him. Texas hefts him outen the saddle an' ropes his elbows behind with a lariat.
"'What do you-all su'gest, gents?' says Texas. 'I s'pose now the deecorous way is to go on with this yere aggressive an' energetic person to them pinon trees ahead, an' hang him some?'
"'Which thar's no doubts floatin' in anybody's mind on that subject,' says Dan Boggs, 'but I'd shore admire to know who this party is, an' where he's headin' to. I dislikes to stretch the neck of strangers that a-way; an' if thar's any gent, now, who can ask this yere person who he is, an' what he's got to say, I'd take it as a favor, personal, if he'd begin makin' of the needed motions.' "But thar ain't none of us can institoote them gestures; an' when the dumb man, on his side, puts up a few bluffs with his fingers, it's a heap too complicated for us as a means of makin' statements. "'I shore couldn't tell,' says Dave Tutt, as he sets watchin' the dumb man's play, 'whether he's callin' us names or askin' for whiskey.' "'Which if we'd thought to bring some stationery,' says Texas, after we-all goes through our war-bags in vain, 'we might open some successful negotiations with this person. As it is, however, we're plumb up ag'inst it, an' I reckon, Boggs, he'll have to hang without you an' him bein' formally introdooced.' "'Jest the same, I wishes,' says Dave Tutt, 'that Doc Peets or Enright was along. They'd shore dig somethin' outen this citizen.' "'Mebby he's got papers in his wamus,' says Boggs, 'which onfolds concernin' him. Go through him, Texas, anyhow: "All Texas can find on the dumb man is one letter; the postmark: when we comes to decipher the same, shows he only gets it that mornin'. Besides this yere single missif that a-way, thar ain't a scrap of nothin' else to him; nor yet no wealth.
"'Tell us what's in the letter,' says Texas, turnin' the document over to Boggs. 'Read her out, Dan; I'd play the hand, but I has to ride herd on the culprit.'
"'I can't read it,' says Boggs, handin' the note to Tutt; 'I can't read readin', let alone writin'. But I'm free to say, even
"Which we ain't standin' thar talkin' long. If thar's one reform to which the entire West devotes itse'f, it's breakin' people of this habit of hoss-stealin'. It ain't no time when four of us is off on the dumb party's trail, an' half of that is consoomed in takin' a drink.
"Whyever be gents in the West so sot ag'in hoss-thieves? Son, you abides in a region at once pop'lous an' fertile. But if you was to put in three months on a cactus desert, with water holes fifty miles apart, it would begin to glimmer on you as to what it means to find yourse'f afoot. It would come over you like a landslide that the party who steals your hoss would have improved your condition in life a heap if he'd played his hand out by shootin' a hole through your heart.
"No, I ain't in no sech hurry to hang people for standin' in on some killin'. Thar's two sides to a killin'; an' if deceased is framed up with a gun all reg'lar at the time, it goes a long way toward exculpatin' of the sport who outlives him. But thar ain't only one side to hoss-stealin', an' the sooner the party's strung up or plugged, the sooner thar's a vict'ry for the right.
"As I remarks, it ain't two minutes when thar's four of us gone swarmin' off after the dumb man who's got Texas Thompson's pinto pony. From the tracks, he ain't makin' no play to throw us off, for he maintains a straight-away run down the Silver City trail, an' never leaves it or doubles once.
"Runnin' of the dumb man down don't turn out no arduous task. It's doo mainly, however, because the pinto sticks a cactus thorn in its hoof an' goes lame in less time tharafter than it takes to turn a jack.
"'Hands up,' says Texas, gettin' the drop as we swings up on the deef an' dumb foogitive.
"But thar's no need of sech preecautions, as the dumb party ain't packin' no weepons--not so much as a knife.
"Thar's nothin' to say, no talk to make, when we takes him. Texas hefts him outen the saddle an' ropes his elbows behind with a lariat.
"'What do you-all su'gest, gents?' says Texas. 'I s'pose now the deecorous way is to go on with this yere aggressive an' energetic person to them pinon trees ahead, an' hang him some?'
"'Which thar's no doubts floatin' in anybody's mind on that subject,' says Dan Boggs, 'but I'd shore admire to know who this party is, an' where he's headin' to. I dislikes to stretch the neck of strangers that a-way; an' if thar's any gent, now, who can ask this yere person who he is, an' what he's got to say, I'd take it as a favor, personal, if he'd begin makin' of the needed motions.' "But thar ain't none of us can institoote them gestures; an' when the dumb man, on his side, puts up a few bluffs with his fingers, it's a heap too complicated for us as a means of makin' statements. "'I shore couldn't tell,' says Dave Tutt, as he sets watchin' the dumb man's play, 'whether he's callin' us names or askin' for whiskey.' "'Which if we'd thought to bring some stationery,' says Texas, after we-all goes through our war-bags in vain, 'we might open some successful negotiations with this person. As it is, however, we're plumb up ag'inst it, an' I reckon, Boggs, he'll have to hang without you an' him bein' formally introdooced.' "'Jest the same, I wishes,' says Dave Tutt, 'that Doc Peets or Enright was along. They'd shore dig somethin' outen this citizen.' "'Mebby he's got papers in his wamus,' says Boggs, 'which onfolds concernin' him. Go through him, Texas, anyhow: "All Texas can find on the dumb man is one letter; the postmark: when we comes to decipher the same, shows he only gets it that mornin'. Besides this yere single missif that a-way, thar ain't a scrap of nothin' else to him; nor yet no wealth.
"'Tell us what's in the letter,' says Texas, turnin' the document over to Boggs. 'Read her out, Dan; I'd play the hand, but I has to ride herd on the culprit.'
"'I can't read it,' says Boggs, handin' the note to Tutt; 'I can't read readin', let alone writin'. But I'm free to say, even