character who abides in these parts--an almost outlaw who has done such
wild things and gets his money from heaven knows where. He is supposed
to have murdered several men, and every incredible story fit for pirates
of the Spanish Main has been tacked on to him--only of the land, not
the sea. He is called "Ruby Mine Bill;" isn't that a nice name! And no
one cares to "run up against him," because he is such a wonderful shot
and does not hesitate to practise a little when things annoy him.

Octavia and I said we simply longed to see him, and Nelson, who had been
talking to Lola (I have not said much of Lola, because she is really
so in love with her husband she is not a great deal of use to
other people), joined in the conversation, and said he had heard
"Ruby-Mine-Bill" was expected in the town he (Nelson) had joined us at,
and it was possible we might meet him at the next station where the
trains would pass each other. We were thrilled, and crowded into the
observation veranda as we got near, on the chance of catching a glimpse
of him. We drew up on a rough track; it is a sort of junction with
several lines, and the train from Osages was drawn up on the one
farthest off, and both the Senator and Nelson exclaimed, because on its
observation car there he was.

They shouted out, "Say, Bill, is that you?" And from among the four
or five men who were leaning over the balcony one who looked like a
respectable country piano tuner, or a plumber out for Sunday, called
out, "You bet!" and began to come down the steps.

"Move along, Bill, and be introduced to some English ladies," the
Senator said; so with an easy slogging stride he came over, and the
Senator presented him to us. He had a moustache and was most mild
looking and about thirty-four. He was dressed in ordinary clothes, with
a bowler hat, only no waistcoat, and a great leather belt round his
waist. He expressed himself as proud to meet us, and when he heard I was
married, too, his eyebrows went up in the most comic way. "Guess they
pair in the kid pens over there," he said! He was standing below us on
the track, with his hands in both his trouser pockets, while he looked
up at us with gentle grey eyes.

"Will you show our ladies how you can shoot, Bill?" the Senator asked,
and Octavia and I implored him to be kind and do so. "Runs rather fine,"
he said, spitting slowly to some distance; "reckon she's about levantin,
but I never refuse ladies' requests." Nelson had r