ainted on it, but a
whoopin', smashin' old Tartar pirate, seven foot by three, with
mustaches like two tails of a small hoss, and cheekbones you could
hang your hat on. More'n that, he was armed and equipped with two
hoss-pistols as required by circumstances.

"That tired feelin' come over me, and I stretched; yessir, the
hands of E. G. W. Scraggs went up toward the sky.

"My yaller friend next requested me to produce. Well, now, that
was Pete's money. I'd 'a' took a chance at v'ilent physicule
exercises, but I see the time had come to talk.

"'My Christian friend and brother,' says I, 'before we converse
upon the root of all evil, let me put you on to the fact that my
name is E. G. W. Scraggs.'

"'Ah!' says he, backin' up, 'Sclaggsee!'

"'Sclaggsee!' I hollers, and we near met on the spot. 'Don't you
say that agin!'

"'Ah!' says he.

"I noticed his guns was wobblin'.

"'Ah!' says I. 'You're darned right. Now, I'll make you this
proposition. I got forty-eight dollars in my pocket that don't
belong to me. If we let things slide by as if they had not
happened I'll give you two dollars for the use of that money until
Tuesday next--pay you fifty dollars next Tuesday, at Jimmy Holt's
place--get me?'

"'Gettee money now,' says he, cunnin'.

"'_P'raps_,' says I, 'but you won't be in condition to spend it for
some time.' He rolled his eye off'n me, and at that instant Mary
Ann, the faithfullest gun that ever stood between me and a
gentleman whose intentions weren't good, appeared upon the scene.

"'Don'tee shootee, Sclaggsee!' he screeches.

"'You call me "Sclaggsee" oncet more, and I won't leave nothin' of
you but a rim,' says I. 'As for the other proposition, it
goes--Tuesday next. Jimmy Holt's place, I put you in hand fifty
dollars, you cock-eyed, yaller, mispronouncin' blasphemy on a
heathen idol! Although I ain't been near enough to a cherry tree
to cut one down, the word of Ezekiel George Washington Scraggs is
as good as the Father of his Country,' says I. 'He beat me at that
last game, but I can stick to my sayin' like a porous plaster. You
get the money; I will lie for the fun of the thing, but not for no
dirty fifty dollars,' says I. 'You goin' toward town?'

"'Yes,' says he.

"'Well, git your plug, and we'll amble along together.'

"So we rode in, right cheerful, instead of quar'lin'. I made him
come along to Maggy's cabin, to show it weren't a bluff about the
money.

[Illustrat