she stopped me. 'One moment, sir; I can't think of
accepting this. Be kind enough to grant my request,' and returned the
money. We mumbled out some thanks, bade her good-day, and started for
the corral, feeling like two sheep thieves. While we were saddling
up--will you believe it?--her little boy came out to the corral and gave
each one of us as fine a cigar as ever I buttoned my lip over. Well,
fellows, we had had it put all over us by this little Michigan woman,
till we couldn't look each other in the face. We were accustomed to
hardship and neglect, but here was genuine kindness enough to kill a
cat.

"Until we got within five miles of our camp that morning, old Bibleback
wouldn't speak to me as we rode along. Then he turned halfway in his
saddle and said: 'What kind of folks are those?' 'I don't know,' I
replied, 'what kind of people they are, but I know they are good ones.'
'Well, I'll get even with that little woman if it takes every sou in my
war-bags,' said Hunt.

"When within a mile of camp, Bibleback turned again in his saddle and
asked, 'When is Christmas?' 'In about five weeks,' I answered. 'Do you
know where that big Wyoming stray ranges?' he next asked. I trailed onto
his game in a second. 'Of course I do.' 'Well,' says he, 'let's kill him
for Christmas and give that little widow every ounce of the meat. It'll
be a good one on her, won't it? We'll fool her a plenty. Say nothing to
the others,' he added; and giving our horses the rein we rode into camp
on a gallop.

"Three days before Christmas we drove up this Wyoming stray and beefed
him. We hung the beef up overnight to harden in the frost, and the next
morning bright and early, we started for the stage-stand with a good
pair of ponies to a light wagon. We reached the widow's place about
eleven o'clock, and against her protests that she had no use for so
much, we hung up eight hundred pounds of as fine beef as you ever set
your peepers on. We wished her a merry Christmas, jumped into the wagon,
clucked to the ponies, and merely hit the high places getting away. When
we got well out of sight of the house--well, I've seen mule colts
play and kid goats cut up their antics; I've seen children that was
frolicsome; but for a man with gray hair on his head, old Bibleback Hunt
that day was the happiest mortal I ever saw. He talked to the horses; he
sang songs; he played Injun; and that Christmas was a merry one, for
the debt was paid and our little widow ha