scouted round,
found all them chocolate creams, and rared up for battle. But no, the
whisky was still calm, though I felt pale.

Something was goin' wrong, for a most frightsome panic clutched my
throat. Suppose I'd caught religion! Oh, it couldn't be so bad as all
that. Fancy being saved like them wormy railroad men, and town scouts,
took abject because the sky pilot was explaining hell. Made in God's
image? No. That don't apply to cowards.

An' yet it's cows to sheep thar's something wrong when tears runs down
my face, because a girl--why since fifteen I'd been in love with every
girl I seen. As a species they was scarce, some good, some even better.
The sight of girls went to my head like liquor, and this one was surely
good with her sunbright hair, her cheeks flushed 'cause I stared, her
sulky lips rebuking when I throw'd a kiss, her yellow-brown eyes--.

Oh, had I really washed behind my ears? Suppose I'd got high-water
marks! Was my hands--I whipped off my gloves to inquire. That's what's
the matter, sure. Got to make good before bein' introduced. Got to get a
move on Tiger. I swung, spurred with one spring through the doors,
yelled "Injuns" and stampeded, scatterin' gravel and panic through
Abilene. I just went like one man for our cook wagon down by the
railroad corrals.

Now, for all the shaving-glass could see, I was nice an' clean, but then
that mirror has small views, and I'm not taking risks, but stripped and
scrubbed all over. The place was so durned public I blushed from nose to
heels till I was dressed again, shining my hair and boots. Then I
procured an extra special, cherry-red, silk scarf out of the wrangler's
kit.

Some of our boys made friendly signs as I passed on my way back, and
fired a few shots after me for luck, but I'd no time to play. I joined
the revival meeting just as the hat came round, so penitent sinners
making for the door, came back to stay and pay because of Tiger. I give
Bull ten dollars to hand to the hat, only he passed it into his own
pocket. He seemed annoyed, too, saying, "Waste not, want not." Then he
explained how the fire-escape only paid Miss Ellis fifty dollars a day,
whereas he was making hundreds.

Just then she passed, and I got introduced. "Say, Polly," says Bull,
"here's Sailor Jesse wants to get acquainted."

She stopped, sort of impatient for supper, and velvet-soft her voice,
full of contempt.

"Oh, pshaw!"

Hard gold-brown eyes all scorn, soft gold-br