ome incidents that went to make up livin' with Mrs. Scraggs he
chirped up considerable. 'Well, sir! This _is_ a gay world, ain't
it?' says he. 'I wisht I could offer you something to drown your
sorrers in, Zeke, but unless you happen to have brought along the
makings of a flowing bowl we can't put an end to 'em at this ranch.'

"Well, now, that was sorrerful tidin's. I reckon William took
notice of my face--Christmas Eve, alone on top of a God-forsaken
mountain and not a smell of anything to make the sun rise in our
souls--oh, murder!

"'I feel awful bad about this, Zeke,' says he.

"'Don't mention it,' says I as soon's I could tune my pipes to a
cheerful lie. 'Your presence is sufficient.'

"'But I have an idee,' says he, pushing his finger agin my ribs.
'Don't git excited, Zeke, only to be cast down the harder, but
there's a chance. All last summer we had stockholders'
investigation meetings, and the way old man Davis led 'em to make
investigations through a glass darkly was a sin and a scandal. The
altytood was too altytoodinous for strangers, says old man Davis,
and therefore they must take a drink; and it was too cold and too
hot, too wet and too dry, and if everything else failed it was too
cussed mejium for them to live through it without takin' a drink.
The consequence was that all I remember about a stockholder is that
he's a kind of man with wibbly-wabbly knees and feet that wants to
swap sides, who spends his time hiccupin' up and down the mine
trails, findin' specimens when and where old man Davis wills.'

"William Pemberton smote his forehead with the flat of his
hand--everything took hold of William _so_ vi'lent. 'I give you my
word, Zeke,' says he, 'that them horse-car busters picked hunks of
red serpentine, loaded with gold from the Texas Star, out of our
white quartz ledges that never see gold since Adam played tag, and
believed it was all right--just the same as the gent pulls a rabbit
out of your hat at the show, and you're convinced that rabbit was
there all the time unbeknownst to you. And to think--' he says.

"'Sit down, William, sit down,' says I. 'I don't know what to do
for appleplexy.'

"'Well, I'll sit down to oblige you, Zeke; but to think of them
flappy-footed yawps puttin' away good liquor by the
pailful--pailful?' yells William scornful.
'Barrelful--steam-enjine b'ilerful--

"'Well,' says I hastily, 'you was sayin' you had an idee?'

"'Oh, yes!' says he. 'It don't s