e. Then she'd shovel the orders
hansum, in a voice that 'ud shame molasses. It wus allus 'dear' or
'darlin'.' Fust haul water, then buck wood, light the stove, feed the
hogs an' chick'ns, dung out the ol' cow, fill the lamp, rub down the
mare, pick up the kitchen, set the clothes bilin', cook the vittles,
an' do a bit o' washin' while she turned over fer five minits. Then
she'd git around, mostly 'bout noon, wi' her shower o' ha'r trailin'
like a rain o' gold-dust, an' a natty sort o' silk fixin' which she
called a 'dressin'-gown,' an' she'd sot right down an' eat the
vittles, tellin' me o' things she wanted done as she'd fergot. Ther'
wus the hen-roost wanted limin', she was sure the chick'ns had the
bugs, an' the ol' mare's harness wanted fixin', so she could drive
into town; an' the buckboard wanted washin', an' the wheels greasin'.
An' the seat wus kind o' hard an' wanted packin' wi' a pillar. Then
ther' wus the p'tater patch wanted hoein', an' the cabb'ges. An' the
hay-mower wus to be got ready fer hayin'. She mostly drove that
herself, an' I 'lows I wus glad."

Arizona paused and took a fresh chew. Then he went on.

"Guess you ain't never got hitched?"

Tresler denied the impeachment. "Not yet," he said.

"Hah! Guess it makes a heap o' diff'rence."

"Yes, I suppose so. Sobers a fellow. Makes him feel like settling
down."

"Wal, maybe."

"And where's your wife living now?" Tresler asked, after another
pause.

"Can't rightly say." There was a nasty sharpness in the manner Arizona
jerked his answer out. "Y' see, it's this a-ways. I guess I didn't
amount to a deal as a married man. Leastways, that's how she got
figgerin' after a whiles. Guess I'd sp'iled her life some. I 'lows I
wus allus a mean cuss. An' she wus real happy bakin' hash. Guess I
druv her to drinkin' at the s'loon, too, which made me hate myself
wuss. Wal, I jest did wot I could to smooth things an' kep goin'. I
got punchin' cows agin, an' give her every cent o' my wages; but it
wa'n't to be." The man's voice was husky, and he paused to recover
himself. And then hurried on as though to get the story over as soon
as possible. "Guess I wus out on the 'round-up' some weeks, an' then I
come back to find her gone--plumb gone. Mebbe she'd got lonesome; I
can't say. Yup, the shack wus empty, an' the buckboard gone, an' the
blankets, an' most o' the cookin' fixin's. It wus the neighbors put me
wise. Neighbors mostly puts you wise. They acted friendly