happened lately, for right thar he broke
out laughin' fit to kill his fool self--jest nachally laughed till he
like to died.

"When finally he comes to, he up an' says:

"'Why, I _sometimes_ attend to business like that for Mr. Palmer; guess
I can fix you. Here, write your name down there.'

"An' he whirls round in front of me a whopper of a big book that 'peared
to have a lot other fellers' names in. She shore looked s'spicious to
me, an' I says:

"'Now see here, Mr. Man, my name don't draw no big lot of money, but she
shorely don't get fastened to any dociments I don't _sabe_.'

"Then that blasted idiot thought o' somethin' else so plumb funny he
lites in laughin' agin till he nigh busts.

"When he gits out o' his system all the laugh she cain't hold easy, he
tells me th' big book is jest nothin' but a tally they use to count you
in when you comes to stay to th' hotel an' to count you out when you
goes.

"That didn't look onreasonable none to me, so I says:

"'Son, she goes.'

"An' when he hands me a writin' tool, not noticin' she wa'n't a pencil,
I sticks her in my mouth to git her ready to write good, an' gits my
dod-burned mouth so full of ink I reckon 'tain't all out yet; an' while
I was writin' in th' book, 'Stonewall Jackson Kip, Deadman Ranch,
Nebraska,' Mr. Man he slips off behind a big safe and empties out a few
more laughs he couldn't git to hold longer.

"An' does you know, ol' man, this mornin' I been gittin' a sort of a
s'spicion that Palmer piker was laughin' at me inkin' my mouth, maybe;
blamed lucky I didn't see it then, or I'd shore leaded him a few.

"Wall, when Mr. Man had got done _ex_aminin' my turkey tracks in the
book, he gits a key an' comes back, hits a bell, an' hollers, 'Front!'
Then, when one o' them little soldier-button fellers comes runnin', an'
th' piker passes him th' key an' sings out, 'Gentleman to No. 1492!' th'
kid he makes a dive for my war sack. But you bet your _alce_ I grabs him
_pronto_, an' says:

"'See here, son, they ain't more'n about two million worth o' valuables
in that thar war sack, so I wouldn't be broke none ef you ducked with
her; but I reckon Stonewall's strong enough to pack his'n without th'
help of no sawed-off like you-all.'

"Then Mr. Kid he up an' chases me over to a railroad car that's built on
tracks runnin' straight up in th' air plumb to th' top of th' house, an'
into her we gits--all free, you _sabe_; didn't have to buy no ticket.

"Wa